Confide In Me
by deConstruction
Summary: SlashOC warning John Cena is one of the toughest men you could ever meet, and is a proud champion. What happens when he begins to fall for the one person he never thought he could? Please R & R!
1. Promotion

**_Authors Note : _Okay, so I know I have an on going story at the moment with _'Some Kind of Bliss'_. I'm still going to keep up with that story, but I've had the inspiration for this one for ages, and I wanted to get something out.**

**To those who've read my other stories, this isn't anything like I've written before. To begin with, it's a _'slash'_ story, that is to say a male/male paring. Added to that, its an _OC_ pairing. So its a wrestler with a created character, in this case Morgan Lee.**

**If the description doesn't interest you so far, that's totally cool, I just want everyone to know what I'm writing before I write it. As a disclaimer, I don't own any wrestler or anything affiliated with WWE. It's all owned by Vince McMahon and I don't have any permission to use any of it. It's just me obeying my creative muses. Morgan is my character, but the songs that he performs are taken from other artists, again I have no permission to use them.**

**So, with that said, I hope you guys enjoy.**

John Cena hated promotion. If there was one activity that came along with being a wrestling Superstar, it was definitely the promotion that irked him more than any other. Just hearing the words pass his bosses' lips shortly after he had won the title put a downer on his whole victory. It wasn't that John hated all aspects of it - far from it. John loved going to signings and events where the fans would mill about excitedly, asking for autographs and pictures with their favourite wrestler.

He loved meeting the people, who week in week out supported him, had his back, bought his merchandise and chanted his name whenever the occasion called for it. John loved that side of promotion. What he hated more than anything else were the interviews that came with it.

Being a private person, John despised the probing questions and prodding insinuations that came from over-quaffed men and women, who didn't know him as a person, yet felt they had a right to talk on about his life and goals, give their unfounded opinions and comments. If John had his way, he would tell them it was none of their damn business, and would refuse to participate. But it wasn't his decision to make.

Being the incumbent WWE Champion, it was clear that it was necessary to undertake in these visits for 'the good of the company'. At least that's what the official line had been.

John Cena was the face of the company, the poster boy for a hipper and edgier organisation. An organisation that embraced the burgeoning Hip Hop culture to allow its current Champion to run with the ball and broaden its appeal past the long haired rockers that made up the staple of it's loyal fan base. Maybe it _was_ a fair trade, Cena mused, that in order for him to be the man, he had to put up with the good and the bad that came with it. Even if the bad was suffering with stomach churning moments like today.

At least that's what he told himself as he relaxed back into the make up artist's chair. He had been invited to appear on _'Cassie Says'_, the newest and most talked about chat show on the planet.

The host, Cassandra Moore, had a huge cult following, which had oozed into the mainstream, with her finding fame for her sharp tongue and even sharper questions. She got the answers no-one else could, got the Hollywood Stars who refused to give interviews. Sure, Cassie had made some enemies along the way, but this was primetime baby! It was all fair in the rules of love and war...even if the objective happened to be a 6-foot, 2 hundred-odd pound mountain of muscle called John Cena.

Squirming uncomfortably in the chair, John tried to duck his head away from the make-up brush tickling it's way over his cheeks. Pouting his lips in annoyance, John felt trapped under faceless pairs of hands, powdering his face and messing around with his hair. What was the point in changing what he looked like, if people wanted to know who he was as a person? Wasn't that defeating the object of the interview?

Growling at a particularly effeminate wardrobe advisor who fumbled with his jersey, clucking his tongue at John's wardrobe choice, Cena made it abundantly clear that he would not change what he was wearing, and no more changes in his appearance were going to take place. Grunting in false gratitude, John watched the collection of make-up artists and advisors leave the room through the reflection in the mirror. Reaching into his pocket, John extracted his cell phone which had started to vibrate insistently against his leg.

"'Sup." John answered, in his well-know way of greeting to whomever called him.

"Cena boy! What's up man!" John Cena grinned wildly as he recognised the voice of his long-time friend Dave Batista.

"Batista ya freak! What's happening man!" John slumped back into his chair, tracing his finger across the creases in the denim of his shorts.

"Usual shit," Dave admitted, "Orton and Trish have broken up again. How many times is that now this month? Three? She said she caught him hitting on Ashley after that inter-promotional house show last week. It was fuckin' hilarious man! She dumped a strawberry milkshake all over his head. Anyways, me and the boys are pulled up in some truck stop our way to Cameron. Where are you at?"

"Doing an appearance on that show, 'Cassie Says' ?" John felt the resentment in his own voice, as his eyes got distracted by a sounds at the back of the room. John looked into the mirror before him, long enough to see the door closing as someone entered.

Stood in the entrance, was what John Cena assumed to be another of_ those_ make-up artists. Dressed in faded denim jeans and a vintage black tee-shirt, John imaged he couldn't be much older that 18.

Cena found himself oddly captivated by the other man's eyes. They were a mesmerising oceanic blue, hinting at soft seams of green and a dusting of grey. They were as enticing as they were mysterious, expressing a lifetime of emotion and thought, reflecting deep in the pools of blue. Coming down over his head were waves of dirty blonde hair, broken up by the occasional streak of brighter blonde, which reached down to just above his chiselled cheek bones. His full lips were pursed into a soft scowl as he studied the papers clutched in his hands.

"...you still listening to me man?" The voice in Cena's ear demanded.

"Yeah...sorry I'm here dude, you were saying?" John asked absent mindedly, turning his attention away from the arriving make up artist and his eyes.

"I said you want to be careful with that woman. Trish went on that show a few weeks back and she ended up storming off the set because the host humiliated her." Dave chuckled darkly down the phone.

"Trish throws a hissy fit every other hour man. It's not much to go on is it?" John grinned, noting that he had been joined by the other person in the room.

Searching his deep blue eyes with a set questions as to his intentions, John mouthed an _'oh' _at him as he handed over the paper that he had been holding in his hand. Placing it on his knee, John took up a pen from the work surface, and scribbled his autograph across it, before handing it back to him. Getting up from the seat, John didn't notice the confused look the _'make-up artist' _shot him as he walked towards the exit.

Snapping his phone shut as he ended the conversation with his friend, John was grabbed by a production assistant as soon as he stepped through the doorway, telling him he was on in five. Sighing in frustration, John allowed himself to be steered towards the set, and the beginning of the interview.

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"...welcome back ladies and gentlemen. I'm sat here with the gorgeous John Cena, WWE's current Champion. So tell us John, what's it like being the face of such a controversial organisation?" Cassie's question was laced with traps, just waiting for John to stumble through, "are you concerned at all that the WWE's reputation will tarnish your own image?"

Relaxing back into his chair, John did his very best to remain cool under pressure. "I'm very proud to be the face of a company and a product I believe in." His answer was short and concise, yet left no ambiguity in the slightest.

"Even though critics have labelled the WWE as a breeding ground for immoral liaisons and despicable storylines? One need only mention the name 'Katie Vick' and it sends shudders down the spines of concerned viewers of America." Cassie's smile must look bright an open on camera, but John could see the spite laced in her eyes.

Taking his time to answer, John sipped at the glass of water provided for him, thinking how to word his answer without causing offence. "We're storytellers Ms. Moore. We go out there to entertain and let you escape from the daily grind. That's what we do. We don't claim to be a moral standpoint for society. We go out there and give you drama and passion. We're performers essentially, not politicians."

"What about the children who watch your television shows? Don't you think they could be impressionable and might foolishly choose to use you and your colleagues as role models?" Cassie laid it out on the line, hoping to get a rise from John. Simply smiling warmly, John wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"It's not real Ms. Moore," John's smile was laced with sarcasm, but he didn't care, "if parents aren't going to teach their children the difference between real life and entertainment, then that's hardly our fault. We give disclaimers and impress just how dangerous our job is. And if the parents don't like what they're watching…change the channel."

Cassie stiffened slightly at being out smarted on her own chat show. Licking her lips into a grimace, she turned her face back to the camera, clearly giving a cold shoulder to the smoulder John Cena. Although he may have had the ability to think on his feet, he didn't like the blatant attack on himself and his profession. To quote one of his friends, that was not cool.

"Well ladies and gentlemen, it's time to welcome my second guest for the evening. He's a 20 year old British singer causing a storm of controversy wherever he goes, not least because of his sexuality. His debut album has sold five million copies in America alone, and he has risen to the top of the Bill Board singles chart on three separate occasions with his first three releases. I think you'll agree that's an amazing feat for a British artist. Here performing his new single, 'Some Kind of Bliss', please welcome...Morgan Lee!"

Thankful his part of the interrogation was over, John turned his head to focus on the staging to his left, as the lights raised on Morgan. Feeling his jaw go slack, Cena couldn't stop the flush of colour reaching his face as he realised in horror, that the_ 'make up guy'_ he had assumed wanted an autograph, was in fact Morgan Lee. Faced with the most talked about singer in the world, and John had assumed he was a backstage hand after his signature.

Gritting his teeth at the embarrassment of his realisation, John could only watch as Morgan got through his song, to a rounding gale of applause from the studio audience.

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The remainder of the show had been relatively pain free for John Cena, aside from a few less-than witty barbs from Cassie. Instead, she had focused her poison laced tongue towards Morgan. John was definitely impressed in how the younger singer conducted himself, showing a maturity beyond his years as he simply refused to rise to any attack which Cassie brought, returning the barbs with warm smiles and shaking his head. All the while Cassie raged from ignorance to out and out bigotry.

Cena half expected her to pull out a copy of the bible and scream chapter and verse at Morgan, labelling him an abomination and a waste of a human being. Although things didn't degenerate to that level, Morgan simply continued to smile politely, and gave equally catty comments back to the flustered host, clearly being more than a match for the woman when it came to a battle of wits.

By the end of the broadcast, Cena was positively thankful that it was over with. Cassie, looking the worse for wear, had stumbled half-heartedly through her 'thank you's', before tearing from the set as the cameras finished transmitting, screaming at her agent wanting to know who had booked the guests. Sighing, John turned his head to Morgan, who had run his fingers through his hair, resting his palms flat across the top of his head.

"Hey man," John began, "good show dude. She was some bitch." Leading into perhaps a conversation, John hope Morgan would at least exchange pleasantries. If nothing else, he wanted to apologise for the autograph incident earlier in the day. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, John was glad to see Morgan crane his neck to face him, a smile curving his mouth as he responded in his charming British accent.

"She just got her knickers in a twist because I wouldn't fight back. Why give her the ratings I say?" Morgan smiled a little more deviously as he watched the show's host scream at some poor assistant for bringing her the wrong '_non-fat, decaff, extra foam mocha-latte'. _

Getting up from the tacky blue seat he was perched on, Morgan removed the microphone pack from his waist, dropping it carelessly onto the set behind him with a resounding thud. Stepping off the matching blue stage, Morgan made his way back towards the dressing rooms, with Cena falling into step beside him.

"Yeah, you're right, why give her the ammo. Hey, I'm John Cena," John threw a smile at Morgan extending his hand which the other man gripped in a handshake. "I'm a wrestler, I work for the -"

"I know who you are," Morgan grinned, releasing his grip, "congratulations on beating Edge by the way. That was some bitchin' FU from the top of the ladder…what?" Morgan's amused expression searched John's face as he watched Morgan as if in dumfounded awe.

"Nothing," snapping his mouth shut, Cena could feel himself blushing for some reason, "I just didn't figure you as a fan of wrestling…or of mine."

"Oh, I never said I was a fan of yours," Morgan added, nodding his head, "just that I saw your match at Unforgiven." Morgan watched as Cena blushed deeper, stumbling his words into some sort of apology.

Feeling sorry for the guy, he hurried on. "Although I do have your album."

"Really?" John's face brightened, grateful at the save he was given. "Did you like it?"

Morgan tilted his head diplomatically as he pushed the swinging door open, heading into a corridor buzzing with people and activity. "Hip hop isn't really my thing, but yeah it was cool."

"That's cool," John nodded, feeling like he was obliged to return the sort-of compliment he was given, dodging a running producer as he spoke "and hey, I've heard some of your stuff. I really like it."

"Don't lie to me John," Morgan couldn't help but chuckle at John's attempt at being nice, "I bet you couldn't name three of my songs, could you?"

Hanging his head in mock shame, John joined in the laugh as he led the way into the dressing room, their collective 'people' awaiting their entrance. Morgan was right, he knew Morgan's first hit, "What took you so long?" and obviously, "Some Kind of Bliss" because of today's, but couldn't name any others if his life depended on it.

"No, not really. I was just trying to be polite and not sound so ignorant." Morgan smiled warmly at John at the admission.

"And it's appreciated." Turning back from John, Morgan accepted his phone from one of his management team, flicking through his received text messages as she ran down through their schedule for the day. In turn, John was being briefed by a WWE media representative, discussing the show and where John would be fly to next.

With his things collected, Morgan's management ushered him towards the exit. Stopping just short of leaving, Morgan slung his jacket onto his torso, before extending his hand to Cena again.

"It was nice to meet you John." Taking Morgan's head in a firm handshake, Cena couldn't help be caught in the other man's stunning eyes once more. They were the most stunning eyes he had ever seen, almost supernatural in their appearance.

"You too man. Listen, if you ever fancy coming to a RAW event or a Pay-Per-View or something, hit me up okay? I'll get you some VIP seating and shit. You could even come backstage and have a tour or something." Reaching into his back pocket, John handed Morgan his business card, printed with his contact numbers and e-mail address.

"I might just do that. Good luck with the press tour." Morgan nodded as he headed towards the door, his manager sighing as she checked her watch with growing impatience.

"Thanks. Good luck with the album." Cena responded, waving slightly as Morgan made his exit out of the room.

Stuffing his jacket into a duffle bag, Morgan hadn't been gone an entire minute when John felt his phone vibrating against his leg. Pulling the device out of his pocket, Cena flipped it open to read the text message he had received. Although he didn't recognise the number, the message itself made it all too clear who it had been sent by. Feeling red burn into his cheeks, John couldn't help but chuckle.

"_By the way John, thanks for the autograph! I'll be sure to treasure it. M"_


	2. An Invitation

**_Authors Note: _Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I let this story slide for a while as I wanted to finish up 'Some Kind of Bliss'. Now that's complete, I'm gonna work on this story for a while. I hope you guys enjoy, and as ever I disclaim. Please read and review!**

"I'm telling you, he totally told that bitch where to get off." Hissing breath through his clenched teeth, John tensed his biceps into another set of curls, gripping the dumbbells between his fists. Stood before the huge mirror of the gym, John's eyes darted to his side, watching as Batista performed the same exercise, grunting with effort as the veins pulsated and expanded beneath the taught skin..

"It's about time someone did," Batista groaned through his clenched teeth, feeling the burn spread from his arms up to his shoulders. "They way she speaks to people is just fucking rude It's like she gets off on fights or something. I'd head butt her if I was asked to be a guest. Stupid bitch."

"Yeah. But the guy just stayed all cool and didn't bite. It was impressive." Groaning with the last burst of frustration, John relaxed his arms, replacing the weights on the ground. Grabbing at the water bottle poking out of his gym bag, Cena took a deep drink of water, enjoying the sensation of the cool liquid travelling down his throat and pooling somewhere hot inside his stomach. He had spent the afternoon discussing his 'talk show' appearance earlier in the week with his friends and training partners. Batista had found it particularly hilarious when John explained that he had mistaken Morgan for a make-up artist.

John's steely blue eyes caught onto the action the mirror behind. In a less than amused fashion, he watched as Randy hung around Trish, obviously whining and pleading with the blonde Canadian. Rolling her eyes, she moved away from the tread-mill she had been running on, flaunting across the gym to the other side, much to the enjoyment of the men in the gym. Not that it was any of his business of course, but from his view point, it seemed as though Trish's as had partially digested her training shorts. Visibly sighing, Randy stalked after her, continually apologising through pouted lips.

"Looks like Randy's getting desperate for a fuck." John motioned over his shoulder to Batista, who watched as Trish proceeded to yell at the blushing Orton.

"Must be. It's not like Orton to take such an ass-kicking from a girl. Even one as fine as Trish." Batista agreed. He had always found Randy's relationship with Trish intriguing. It's not as if either one ever said they were in love with the other, at a push they could say they were 'friends with benefits'. But no-one could deny how miserable they became when they weren't sleeping together. And conversely, when they were sleeping together, they had constant and very public arguments, hurling unheard of abuse at one another. But still, they couldn't stand to be apart, and constantly screwed each other senseless at every opportunity.

Guessing they were both addicted to punishment Batista simply shrugged his shoulders, going into his next set of bicep curls.

"So what about you man," Cena dropped himself into sitting on his gym bag as he looked up at Batista, "you still puttin' one into Candice?"

Batista's eyes flashed with a devilish twinkle as a smile crept to his lips at the sound of Candice's name. "We're still meeting when the shows cross, yeah." His admission was enough to bring a hearty chuckle from John, who hung his head slightly as he shook it from side to side.

"What do see in that girl man? She's just a cum-bucket for fucks sake." John for the life of him could not see in the attraction in Candice Michelle. She had a reputation of being the filthiest girl on either roster, willingly giving it up for anyone who gave her even a morsel of attention. For Batista, who was probably one of the most picky men in the company, when it came to girls, to be sleeping with her on a semi regular basis seemed to be a contradiction to John, a very definite and pronounced dip in his usually high standards.

"She's gives the greatest blow jobs ever." Batista admitted, loosing his tongue over his bottom lip as he considered his words.

"Must come from the hours of practice," John added, slapping Batista on the back as he got to his feet, "there are finer girls in the company than her."

"Like Ashley you mean?" Batista knew he was hitting a sore spot as soon as the words left his lips. Ashley and John had begun dating soon after she had joined the company by winning the RAW diva Search. They had been an adorable couple for almost a year, with John finally admitting that maybe he had actually found 'the one', talking about finally settling down.

Of course that had been before he had caught her cheating on him with Chris Masters. Cena had been devastated, utterly heart broken. He had cut himself off from even his closest friends, and hadn't really dated anyone since then. The most he did was pick up ring sluts and girls at bars for the occasional one night stand.

"That's cold bro." John added, grinding his teeth together at the way his heart twisted because of remembering what he had with Ashley.

"Sorry. You're right. Let me make it up to you? Come out into town with us tonight." Batista offered, "there'll be beautiful girls, booze and good times. I guarantee you'll have a great time."

John started to decline the request, but was cut short by Batista. "We're leaving at eight man. You'd better be ready." With Batista not mincing his words, John could only nod his head in defeat.

He didn't really want to go out and party, that was not his idea of a good time anymore. But didn't he certainly didn't feel like being the kill joy anymore. Nodding his head slowly, John figured why not go out and have a good time? What's the worst could happen?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"John…man, have a another drink." Looking up from his glum pout, John looked up in time to see Randy Orton and three buxom beauties make their way over to where he was sat. Clutching a shot glass and two bottles of beer in his hands, Randy casually slid one of the bottles to John as his collection of stunning women continued to fawn over him.

"Have you seen Trish tonight? Fucking slut. Her tits are hanging out all over the place." Randy glowered from his seat, watching as Trish leaned across the table she was sat at on the other side of the room, whispering in the ear of the man she was flirting with. Sipping from the bottle as he watched the interaction, John raised an eyebrow.

"She's having a good time ain't she?" Sighing, John really didn't want to be here. He'd been sat at several different tables as they moved from club to club, watching his friends have a good time out on the dance floor whilst he just sat and pouted. It wasn't as though women hadn't come up to him, asking him to dance and other more direct approaches. But the truth was he just wasn't interested. He was never interested anymore. At least not after Ashley.

"That's not the point. She's a fuckin' slut." Randy spat, sliding his arm around one of the women he was with as she carefully undid several buttons on his shirt, lapping at the exposed flesh of his chest.

"And you're so virtuous." Came Dave Batista's rumbling laughter as she joined his two friends at the table, with the raven haired Candice Michelle in tow. Randy simply made a face at Batista, continuing to fume as he sipped at his drink, eyes focused on Trish as she moved to the dance floor.

"You look miserable John," Candice observed, "anything the matter?"

"Nah. Just tired I guess." John lied. He didn't want to be here. Right now, his bed and some gory Japanese anime sounded like heaven compared to this existence. Even the prospect of sex wasn't enough to keep him here. His right hand would certainly suffice tonight. Relaxing back into his seat, he let his steely blue eyes scan the club as he watched the throngs of sweaty dancers, moving in time to the heavy beats from the speakers, groping and sucking on each other in displays of lust and passion.

John found himself slightly envious, thinking of a time when it would have been him out on that dance floor, Ashley grinding against him with those tight hips of hers, and the skirts that barely covered the best parts of her. Cena freely admitted he wasn't the greatest dancer in the world, but who could look bad next to Ashley? Grunting in his displeasure, it was enough to finish him off for the night. John started to make his excuses to bail when Batista cut him off.

"Hey, isn't that the singer you were on about? Morgan something?" Batista's eyebrows knitted together as he tried to fight past the inebriation to access his memory. Coming up blank, John happily finished the sentence for him.

"Morgan Lee. I think it is." John narrowed his eyes. Through the strobe lighting he could just about make out Morgan, dancing with the woman he recognised to be his manager. Janet Jackson's _'So Excited' _was currently playing, and the pair were laughing hysterically as they danced, lost in the beat of the music. John nodded his head softly in recognition.

"Wait," Randy spat, placing his bottle back down on the table, "ain't he the queer one that's all over the news and shit?"

Candice rolled her eyes as Randy spoke, turning her face away from him. Shaking his head eat Candice's reaction, a grin spread across Randy's lips as he pushed his harem of women away from him. Leaving his seat, Randy's crystal blue eyes glinted dangerously as they both focused on the oblivious Morgan from behind. He knew how much fun he could have with the kid. Re-buttoning his shirt a little, Randy put on his best 'Legend Killer' smirk as he crossed towards the dance floor, directly aiming for Morgan. By now others were aware of the stalking Orton. Trish watched from the side, rolling her eyes much as Candice had done earlier, waving good bye to her gentleman friend and making her way towards the table where her friends were sat, watching as Randy moved in towards the singer.

In the midst of dancing, Morgan was more than startled as he felt two strong hands grip his waist from behind. Turning his head slightly, he was met by a tantalizing hint of Randy Orton's delicious chest.

John felt himself flush red as he watched Randy make a blatant move on the British singer. Cena knew the look Randy was giving Morgan, as he had seen him give it to more girls than he could possibly count since they had been friends. What Orton was trying to achieve by hitting on the guy, he didn't know, but he felt more than embarrassed at his actions.

"He isn't doing what I think he is…"Trish groaned, "fuckin' moron. I swear his ego knows no bounds." All four of the wrestlers held the same sentiment as Randy began to grind against Morgan, who looked more than uncomfortable at being joined by the Legend Killer, doing his level best to fight out of Randy's tight grip on his waist. Deciding enough was enough, John got up his seat, striding across the club towards Morgan and Randy.

Cutting through the crowd easily, John reached forward, grabbing Morgan's arm, pulling him free of Randy's grip. Morgan's eyes flooded with recognition as he realised who had saved him from the clutches of Randy. Mouthing 'thank you' at John, Morgan allowed himself to be led off the dance floor and back towards the table where Cena had been sat before.

"Hey everyone, this is Morgan." John nodded towards the blonde, who gave a little wave as the others acknowledged his presence with genuine warmth. "Morgan, this is Dave, Candice and Trish."

"Hey guys. It's cool to meet you." Morgan nodded, a little shy at being confronted with some of his favourite wrestlers. Candice grinned openly, patting the space next to her which he readily accepted. Not given a chance to speak to anyone, Morgan was cut off as Randy Orton burst forward, retaking his seat. Morgan simply rolled his eyes in the opposite direction of Randy.

"Hey babe, I thought we were dancing…?" Randy asked, his voice deliberately low and dangerously seductive.

"That was not dancing. You may as well have been humping my leg you weirdo. What are you, in fuckin' heat or something?" Morgan regarded Randy with a cold stare as the Legend Killer looked taken aback at his words.

"Come on baby, don't tell me you wouldn't't want to slip one in my ass." Randy winked, patting his firm round buttock, eliciting a moan from everyone present at the table, and a well aimed punch into his arm from Trish.

"Randy, with your head crammed so far up there, I doubt there'd be room for anything else." Morgan nodded, his smile dry and sarcastic. The group exploded with riotous laughter, as Randy flushed a deep shade of crimson. Trish brushed away at the tears gliding down her cheeks, as she shuffled up next to Morgan, slinging her arm around his shoulders.

"You are my new best friend kid." She grinned. Morgan offered a shy smile in return as John addressed him.

"I don't get it. Don't tell me you don't find me attractive." Randy seemed genuinely confused at Morgan's response, "gay guys always hit on me."

Morgan raised an eyebrow in response "That's probably because they think you're easy. I personally am not that desperate."

"Desperate?" Randy's voice raised to a level that only dogs could hear, "do you know who I am?"

"I do," Morgan grinned, "and you're more weird looking in the flesh. For one thing, your eyes are a lot further apart than they appear on TV. It's just…odd…"

Randy's eyebrows shot towards the roof as he glared at Morgan with incensed rage. "Trish…would you tell him how hot I am?" Glancing at Trish, Randy rolled his eyes as he saw her clutching her stomach as she laughed so hard at the conversation between Morgan and Randy.

"Plus they mostly likely assume you're gay." Morgan added, nodding slightly as Candice giggled as quietly as she could watching the two go back and forth.

"Assume I'm gay?" Randy repeated the words as though they were the most ludicrous ones every spoken, "why would anyone assume I'm queer? I'm the fucking legend killer…"

"You're a wrestler aren't you? That makes you pretty gay." Morgan sniggered, resting his hand across his stomach.

"What?" Both Randy and Batista exploded at the insinuation, with John simply shaking his head. "How does being a wrestler make us gay?"

"Um…maybe its because it's a bunch of 'Muscle-Mary' guys, covered in baby oil, wearing these tiny little trunks groaning whilst touch, hug and lay all over each other." Morgan completed the observation, much to the enjoyment of Trish and Candice, "It is pretty gay when you think about it."

Lost for words, Randy turned open mouthed to Trish, whilst John patted Morgan on the back. "I don't know many people who shut him up. How come you're in town?" John was genuinely interested in what Morgan had to say.

"Nice to see you too John." Cena blushed at the apparent bluntness of his words coming back on him. To save him the embracement, Morgan carried on. "Signings. Y'know, promotion and stuff. I swear if I'd known how long it takes to promote one single here I would never have bothered releasing anything." Morgan admitted, grinning at John., "its way different back home. You in town for an event?"

"Yeah," John finally recovered his composure, "Monday Night RAW, tomorrow night."

"Awesome. Thanks. But by your laws I'm technically underage. So I'll have to pass." Morgan nodded at Candice who offered to pass him over a bottle of beer.

"John tells us you're a wrestling fan," Batista spoke, turning his attention to Morgan, "you ever been to an event."

"Nope. Never." Morgan admitted. Batista raised his eyebrows as he considered the response.

"Well, you should come to RAW tomorrow night. As our VIP guest." John added, smiling warmly, "it'll be awesome. If you're free that is."

"I should be," Morgan smiled in response, "as long as its not a problem. I wouldn't want to cause any problems."

"I'm the champ bro," John stated, puffing out his chest to look as impressive as possible, "of course it'll be fine. I'll text you where to meet us and I'll give you the tour."

"Cool. Well, it was great to meet you guys, but by the look my manager is giving me, I think I'd better bounce. It was really great meeting you, even if it did mount to assault in some cases." Poking his tongue out at Randy, Morgan got up from his seat preparing to leave the table. Raising from his own seat, John stepped aside for Morgan to pass.

"Take care man, see you tomorrow?" John offered his hand, which Morgan accepted in a handshake.

"Sure thing." Morgan smiled before leaving the table and joined his manager, preparing to leave the club. John watched the two exit, before turning back to his table of friends.

"Awesome kid." Candice observed, as Batista eyed John with interest.

"Yeah. I ain't seen someone put Orton in his place like that for years." Batista admitted, slapping the growling Randy on the back. Carefully, John pushed his seat under the table, making his apologies to exit. He was tired, and fed up, and just wanted to be alone.

Watching as John said his goodbyes, Batista raised his eyebrow slightly "He needs to get out more." Candice nodded at David's words, as she rested her on his shoulder whilst Cena left the club. "He's got some shit goin' on." Batista finally noted, fully intending to find out just what.


	3. Backstage & Eating Out

**_Authors Note :_ Update. I'm sorry I'm a little slow with the updates for this story, but thank you to those who are keeping with me. It's my favourite story to write at the moment, and I hope you guys are enjoying it too. Morgan is my character, everything else I disclaim! Please read and review!**

John stood shivering in the night air as his breath formed ghostly wisps of white cloud before his face. Checking his watch again for the eighteenth time, he folded his arms across his massive chest as defence against the bitter night air. John cursed himself for only wearing one of his trademark 'Chain Gang' tee-shirts and the cut off denims he was never without. It was one thing to make an old-school fashion statement, but something else entirely to freeze to death for wearing the incorrect attire. Deciding to focus his mind on something other than the sensation of his testicles, which he was certain were turning blue, Cena's mind began running through the text-message based conversation he had had with Morgan, as he tried to remember exactly what he had said.

Maybe it was the cold slowing down the cognitive functions of his brain, but John struggled to think clearly. He was pretty sure he had said for Morgan to meet him here at six o'clock, at the back entrance of the loading bay. It was around at the back of the arena, free of the bulging queues of wrestling fans waiting at the front. And meeting this late in the evening would give Cena just enough time to work out at the local gym and get in some practice in the ring before giving the singer the grand tour of the backstage area, and the introduction to the guys.

Cena had faced some pretty serious ribbing at the hands of his male co-workers when they had heard he was bringing Morgan backstage. From cat calls of John meeting his new boyfriend, to hearing the vague threats that were made should Morgan venture anywhere near the lockeroom, John was already worked up. The last thing he needed was another 'Randy Orton' type incident going down with Morgan. He had invited the guy here because he was a fan. Why did he have to be viewed any differently to anyone else, just because he happened to like boys as apposed to girls. John had never had a problem with gay guys or girls, and couldn't stand to be around people that did. Bigotry was his pet hatred, and today's little display had done nothing to help his deposition.

Brought out of his thoughts by the rumbling sounds of an approaching engine. Turning the corner into the car park was the new 'Bentley Continental'. Cena marvelled at the sleek silver automobile as it easily pulled to a halt a few feat away from where he was stood. The tinted windows made it impossible to see who was inside the vehicle. To answer his immediate question, the back passenger door swung open, and Morgan dutifully stepped out.

The singer had apparently dressed more appropriately for the occasion, as the top half of his body was hidden behind a black parka-style jacket, with the fur lined hood coming up and over his face. His baggy, distressed denim jeans fell down in tumbled waves as the hint of yellow 'Timberland' boots poked out from the bottom. With one had shoved into his pocket, Morgan's other clutched a _venti _sized Starbucks cup to his body. Offering a brief smile to John, Morgan tottered across the tarmac, his trusted manager Elsie following him out of the car, protesting at the cold night air.

Extending his hand, John tried not so show how cold he was as Morgan took it in a hand shake. As their skin made contact, Morgan let out a small yelp at the cold of John's hand, instinctively retracting his own as if he had been bitten.

"Jesus man, you're like ice. Sorry I'm late…have you been standing out here since six?" Morgan's eye's searched John face as he nodded his head, clamping his jaw tightly to his jaw wouldn't chatter, "why didn't you put a coat on or something? Ellie, hold this."

Turning to his manager, Morgan handed over the foam cup he had been holding, as he withdrew his other hand from his pocket. Grabbing John's other hand, he held them together as if in a prayer position. Bringing them closer to his face, Morgan dipped his head, exhaling all the air out of his lung onto John's hands, as he rubbed them between his own, trying to warm them from the friction induced heat.

John felt the caress of Morgan's warm breath on his hands, and smiled a result. A tingling sensation which began in his hands, spread further up his arms, causing him to shiver a little, for some reason making him blush softly. Worse was to come however, as the tingling sensation which spread through the length of his body, began to centre itself somewhere altogether lower than he would have liked.

As Morgan's pace increased on his hands, John slowly felt the feeling return first to his fingers, as the colour returned to his hands, all the while trying to keep the look of alarm from his face. Looking up from what he was doing, Morgan grinned,

"Maybe we should get inside before you freeze?" John nodded, glad of the reprieve before he had to make some lame excuse for the feeling or arousal bubbling inside. Hurriedly, Cena lead the way into the arena, his guests following suit, trying to blot out the feeling of becoming excited by another guy. John chalked it up to the feeling or warmth causing happiness inside him. It could have happened because of anyone. He bet if Batista had warmed him up like that, he probably would have felt the same. It was just because he was so cold…_right_?

Once, inside, the trio became enveloped in gust of warm air, as the heaters worked overdrive inside the cold cement corridors of the arena. Inside the ring, the huge floodlights and physical exertion would be more than enough to keep the talent sweating uncontrollably. However, backstage the story was somewhat different, as everyone (excluding John Cena it seemed) was in at least two layers. John led the pair towards the security desk, where all guests were required to report. It was all too easy for a fan to get themselves backstage, and so the company needed some assurances as to who was permitted backstage. Morgan and Elsie were each given a gaudy orange visitors pass and signed in on the sheet held by a particularly burly guard.

Taken further into the maze of concrete, John stopped to introduce them to a group of gathered officials and wrestling talents he had noted standing near by.

"Excuse me, Vince?" Mr. McMahon's resounding 'hmmm' echoed as his broad shouldered form turned around to acknowledge who was behind him. His worn face smiled into Cena's, as his eyes took in the Champion's guests, "this is Morgan Lee, and his manager Elsie. They're our VIP's tonight."

"Of course," Vince's smile was broad and genuine as he clasped into a huge bear hug, "it's good to have you here Morgan. Welcome to the WWE. John tells me you're somewhat of a fan of our product?"

"I am," Morgan managed as he was released from the grip, part of him wondering if he now had a collapsed lung as a result, "it's really honour to be here Mr. McMahon. I've never been to a wrestling event before, so I'm a bit excitable."

Vince's laugh rumbled as he patted him on the back. "Call me Vince. And we'll have to make sure your visit is an eventful one. There will be plenty of people to meet here tonight. This is my production assistant, Richard Tranter and our on-air supervisor Shannon Olivier," Morgan smiled gracefully and shook the hands of the two Vince had presented, "this is our trainer Earl Poole, and our resident doctor, Jose Armstrong. And over here, is one of our great veterans, I don't know if you know of him…'Nature Boy' Ric Flair?"

Morgan stopped mid step as he took in the vision of the grinning 'Nature Boy', clad in perfect grey Armani. Seemingly lost for words, Morgan's lips tumbled as he awkwardly stuck out his hand which Flair accepted. "Good to meet you kid." Ric grinned.

"Wow…I mean…great to meet you sir. I…I'm like a massive Ric Flair fan. Seriously, I've followed your career for years. I think you are the greatest ever. Do you think maybe I could get an autograph?" The 'Nature Boy's toothy grin spread across his face as he winked at the younger male, prompting Morgan to snatch out a small leather black book he kept with him at all times. While it was true Morgan was a celebrity in his own right, he still had incidents of being totally star struck, meeting people he had grown up idolising. His eldest brother had loved the Ultimate Warrior, his other brother was proud 'Hulkamaniac', but Morgan had always been a Flair follower.

John Cena watched with a goofy smile on his own face. It was really nice too see Morgan so excited at meeting one of his favourite superstars. In fact, for some reason, John found the entire incident kind of cute. Shaking it off, he watched as Elsie snapped a picture of Flair and Morgan together.

"Thank you very much." Morgan gushed, mentally chastising himself for sounding so pathetic. Flair continued the easy grin for which he was known, prompting a question of his own.

"I was wondering Morgan, if I could ask a favour of my own?" Flair's eyes shone as he put his arm around the shoulders of Morgan, who could only nod his head at his idol's words. "My daughter, Ashley, loves your music. You think we could set something up for her?"

"Absolutely. I think I'm touring Charlotte in January. I can get her some tickets and backstage passes if you want?" Flair chuckled patting Morgan on the back at his offer of favouritism for Flair's daughter.

"That would be very decent of you son. Get your people to get in touch with the WWE management, and we can work it out. It's really kind of you man." Flair nodded, shaking hands with Morgan, who still could only look on in wonderment. Making his apologies, Flair left the group to go and prepare for the night's event. Morgan watched Flair leave, before turning back to Vince and John.

"That was Ric fuckin' Flair. I can't believe I just met the man, and all I could do was stand there with my mouth hanging open like a retard." Morgan slapped the heels of his hands to his forehead, causing Vince to rumble with laughter. Slinging his arm around his shoulders much as Ric had done before him, Vince began to steer him further into the arena.

"Come on Morgan. Let me introduce you to some of the boys." Morgan grinned like a child on Christmas as he allowed himself to be steered forward. John smiled as he followed on.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"It was fuckin' amazing! I was so caught up in the matches it was over before I knew it! At when Randy Orton got dropped through that table? Well I think it was my favourite RAW moment ever!" Morgan gushed as he waved his hands animatedly.

The event had ended several hours ago, and Morgan was still on a high. He had been given the full tour backstage, where he had met various wrestlers, including the Spirit Squad ("_they're here, they're queer, get over it!"), _Chris Masters ("_the biggest butt I think I've ever seen_"), Gene Snitsky _("his face offends me") _and Viscera _("who or what was that?")._

After the tour, Morgan had been introduced to some of the production staff, including the McMahon children. After which, Morgan was escorted to his ring side seat where he watched the event with the best view possible. The broadcast team had noted that he was in attendance, complete with camera shot to which Morgan waved at, a little embarrassed at the attention. And he had lost himself in the event, not realising how much more fun they were live than watching at home on television. He had gone backstage after the event, and congratulated everyone on the awesome performance.

It was then that John had suggested that he and Morgan go and get something to eat, mentioning he knew a great burger bar not far from the arena. He was surprised when Morgan agreed, and the pair had set off into the night air. After arriving at the restaurant, the pair had relaxed into a darkened red vinyl booth at the back of the restaurant, as John marvelled at Morgan's appetite. Despite his slender form, Morgan ordered a huge cheese burger and 'mega-sized' fries, washing it down with a large diet coke explaining that he didn't like the taste of regular.

Despite the fact he didn't know much about him, John found Morgan easy to talk to, and more than fun to be around. He was funny and exuberant, seeming to take a genuine if naïve pleasure in everything and everyone. For the first time in a long time, John felt comfortable at simply 'hanging out'. Since his break up with Ashley, John had rarely gone out, and when he did he didn't have a good time. But tonight seemed to be changing that.

"So, what made you want to be a singer?" John chuckled as Morgan glanced up from a mouthful of cheeseburger, wiping at his mouth the paper serviette before answering.

"Well," Morgan began, washing down the meat with coke, "I'm not one of those precocious brats who say they've been singing since they were two and stuff. Honestly? I get really bad stage fright. But I do enjoy singing, and I'm good at it. So why not? Seemed like fun at the time."

"Do you write your own stuff?" It didn't bother John so much if Morgan didn't. His genre of music tended to rely on song writers, and very few people his age and in his occupation could say that they wrote their music. Most settled for song writers.

"Most of it." Morgan answered, "this album, I wrote on the majority of the tracks. I won a reality TV competition to get my recording contract, but I'd been working on my album myself since I was about sixteen. They took it in, a few big name producers fucked about with it and they put it out there. I wouldn't just sing other people's songs, that's not who I am."

"That's cool. Collaboration can be good. It's fun to bounce off ideas with other people. Plus its sold really well." John added. It was true, despite all criticisms, the album had been a mainstay at the top of album charts all around the country. Although controversy surrounded Morgan, no-one could deny the sheer number of sales.

"Yeah. I don't get why I do so well here. I didn't want to release my stuff over here, but my arm was twisted into it, and it's done really well." Morgan added, taking a moment to reflect on his album sales in the U.S.

"Does it surprise you?" John's eyebrow raised slightly as he waited for Morgan's answer. He was intrigued by his cryptic answer from earlier, wonder what Morgan's feelings were about releasing music here. If anything, he thought the singer would have been happy at exposing his music to a wider audience.

"Kind of. I wasn't sure how the American public would take me, y'know? Back home, I knew the music itself would sell the record, whether I was gay or straight. But I figured you guys wouldn't be able to see past the fact I'm into men. It's not a criticism, more an observation, although that talk show host doesn't exactly prove me wrong, does she?."

"I guess not." John pondered on what Morgan had revealed. He hadn't really thought about it that way, and couldn't exactly to relate to Morgan's point of view. Still, whatever the public perception of Morgan was, his album was selling strongly, "are you dating anyone?"

"I was," Morgan admitted, chasing fries around his plate with his fork, "but it ended messily. He didn't think I would stay faithful, and a report that I was sleeping with some footballer kind of sealed the deal for him. I wasn't, but that didn't matter and we broke up. Now all I seem to attract are attention queens and porn stars."

John noted the expression of sadness cross Morgan's features, and instantly felt bad for bringing the subject up. "Hey man, that sucks. I know how it feels to go through a rough break up. I was dating this girl, but she slept with this other guy. Kind screwed me up. I was really into her…" Cena's face trailed off as he felt his heart stir at the memory of Ashley, feeling a little foolish he had revealed so much of himself to Morgan.

Noting John's feeling of uncomfort, Moran reached his hand across the table, grabbing John's and giving it a quick squeeze before pulling it back. "It is kind of crappy. Maybe we should become Nuns? I here celibacy is the way to go, plus I always wanted to be in the 'Sound of Music'."

John chuckled at Morgan's suggestion, feeling the smile touch his mouth. The idea was stupid, but it was enough to make John smile, which was a considerably difficult thing to achieve these days it seemed. Morgan grinned as he relaxed back into his seat, asn John started to speak. "So you had a good time tonight?"

"Definitely," Morgan responded, nodding his head enthusiastically, "I met my idol Ric Flair, and saw an awesome wrestling show, not to mention the free stuff the merchandise people gave me. Plus, I met Jeff Hardy."

As Morgan stopped to sigh, Cena's eyes flashed with interest. "Jeff? You're into Hardy?" John rolled his eyes as he flattened his hands on the top of the table laughing softly. "I don't get it. Everyone seems to be into Jeff Hardy. He's so…odd looking, with the hair paint and the clothes. What is it about him that has everyone swooning?"

"I am not swooning," Morgan smiled as he corrected Cena's assessment, "and I don't know what it is about him. He is very eccentric I agree, but I've crushed out him since I first started watched wrestling. He's just hot."

John chuckled as he replaced the remains of his burger onto the plate. Glancing at his watch, he noted that it was getting close to 12.30, and he had a flight to catch the next morning and had to check in at six am. As much as he didn't want to end the fun he was having, he knew that if he didn't get at least four hours sleep in, he would be incredibly moody tomorrow, and that wasn't good news for anyone. Thankfully, Morgan seemed to feel the same way,as he was busily sending a text message for his driver to come and get him.

After paying for their meals, the pair headed outside to wait of the curb for Morgan's driver. Cena was more suitably attired now, clothed in a thick over coat. Looking to his side, he saw Morgan had wrapped his arms around himself, and was visibly shivering at the cold. Feeling a little unsure of himself, John extended his arm around Morgan, rubbing his hand up and down his side, trying to build heat with friction as Morgan had done earlier. Morgan offered a rueful grin as his teeth chattered.

"Why does it have to be so cold?" he spat, groaning as he stamped his feet against the sidewalk, trying to get some feeling back. Mercifully, his driver pulled around the corner in the same Bentley in which Morgan had arrived in earlier. Turning to John, Morgan smiled in thanks.

"It's been an awesome night John. Thank you very much for inviting me. Do you want a ride to your hotel? It's bloody freezing out here." John smiled as he nodded his head in response.

"Nah, I'm good thanks man. And you're welcome, you should come to a Pay-Per-View next time, they are off the hook." Morgan smiled at the suggestion moving to get towards the car. Taking John's hand in a brief hand shake, he waved before dashing into the waiting vehicle, surrounding himself in the warmth provided by the interior. John watched as Morgan pulled away, waving as the car left. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he began making his way back towards his hotel, bracing against the cold night air.

For some reason, he couldn't take the smile away from his lips as he thought of time spent with Morgan. It had been the most fun he had in a long time, and he genuinely already liked the young singer, and hope they would stay in contact.


	4. You've got Male

**_Authors Note : _Update. Okay, I wanted to write this chapter for ages. It's basically showing how the relationship develops between John and Morgan, but its conducted via e-mail. So I don't know this will turn out, but I hope you like it! Reviews as ever, as appreciated, especially with this story (random confession - I considered pulling it yesterday) so thank you for your support guys! As ever, I disclaim as I own nothing other than Morgan. If you must sue, then you can have my Grandma…**

* * *

From: Morgan Oliver Lee  
To: John Felix Anthony Cena

Subject: RE: Hey  
Date: Friday, 29th Sep 2006 19:05:15

Dear John,

Hey! Thanks for the e-mail, it was great to hear from you! I really had a great time after RAW the other night. Did I mention how awesome it was to meet Ric Flair? If I didn't, then it fucking rocked! The man is awesome, like the greatest wrestler ever! You could learn a lot from that guy! (plus I want one of his robes - how fabulous are they?)

Work is going well, I'm stuck in some butt hole of a town near Louisiana where I think if the general populous had heard of soap it would be a miracle. Nah, it's not so bad really, but I am getting some odd looks from a few of the older residents. I dropped by this general store, and I swear the owner made the sign of the cross before I walked in. Don't you just feel the love? Ha! Points in their favour? Their food is awesome!

I'm supposed to go back in the studio next week to work on the follow up to my album. That should be fun. I did have a massive argument with some random label representative about which producers I'd work with…did I not mention how I was in control? They'll learn sooner or later!

Anyways, I have to go, the natives are getting restless and I think they're gonna start pelting us with Bibles soon…

I hope you're well! How is wrestling going? Tell Flair I said hi!

Regards,

M

* * *

From: John Felix Anthony Cena

To:Morgan Oliver Lee  
Subject: RE:RE: Hey  
Date: Sunday, 1st Oct 2006 11:42:21 -0700 (PDT)

'Sup Morgan,

Life is hectic man! I was on this ass of a flight at four in the morning, and now coffee is the only think keeping me alive right now. Who does flights at four in the morning? It ain't right! I didn't even know there was a four in the morning!…Sorry dude! Fell asleep at the monitor typing this.

Flair sends his best, and says he's got a robe spare if you want it! Made me laugh when you said you wanted one.

I'm hitting the gym after this, I figure I could use the workout to wake me the fuck up! I'm dead. After that, I've got a signing to go to and then I'm actually done for the night, so I might actually get some actual sleep. God its been so long since I had some sleep.

Awesome stuff for new album. You gotta send me a copy so I can actually listen to some of it. I actually went out and bought your first one after I made such a dick of myself before. It ain't half bad. I liked 'Cowboy Style'. Awesome mix of sounds. And don't take no shit! It's your album, you make it the way you want it man!

Oh yeah, and just for you, I got Jeff Hardy's e-mail address, cos I know you dig him. He said for you to hit him up sometime, he'd like to get to know you.

He's Jeffrey Nero hardy Give him a message.

Well kid, I gotta go get my ass to the gym!

Look after yourself!

Hustle, Loyalty, Respect

JC

_

* * *

From: Morgan Oliver Lee  
To: John Felix Anthony Cena _

Subject: You're Insane  
Date: Wednesday, 4th Oct 2006 19:05:15

John,

E-mail Jeff Hardy? Are you out of your fucking mind? What would I say?

'Hey dude, I think you're hot, you were my first wrestling crush. You've a great ass. What's up?' Don't think it would go down too well, do you?

Anyway, I hope you got the sleep you wanted. Just a thought, but do you think all the coffee you drink is a little bit counter productive? You can't sleep and you're dosing yourself up on coffee ? Just a thought is all.

It's early days, but my new stuff is sounding pretty good. We've written three songs so far, and they're sounding good. They're rough and a few kinks need to be worked out, but I think this album is gonna be hot. Well, I hope so anyway. Knowing my luck, I'll have one number one album then sink into obscurity. It's been known to happen!

Oh yeah, one of the girls in my team says you're hot.

I feel so cooped up in this studio. It's not like the one we have back home. That one is nice and spacious and right in the centre of town so I can go waste my cash on sluts and booze. This tin can is in the middle of nowhere…in Albuquerque. Where the fuck is Albuquerque? Who in their right mind would give a town such a stupid name? And who would live here?

I'm frustrated, ignore my random abuse.

Anyways, I hope you're doing well!

Regards,

Morgan

* * *

_From: John Felix Anthony Cena _

_To:Morgan Oliver Lee  
Subject: RE: You're Insane  
Date: Saturday, 7th Oct 2006 14:02:52 -0700 (PDT)_

Morgan,

'Sup man! C'mon, you met Jeff face to face, how difficult can it be sending the guy a message? He asked me yesterday why you hadn't sent him anything. So I took the liberty of giving him your e-mail address. He says he'll drop you a line soon.

I need coffee. All work and no coffee makes John Cena a grumpy fucker. It's in my blood. In fact, I'm pretty sure there's more caffeine in my veins that blood. Maybe I shouldn't bother diluting it with water anymore and inject the stuff into my arm. Cut out the middle man, right?

I'm doin good. Took a nasty bump off Edge last night so my shoulder is a little sore. I can't really raise it up too much, but I'll work it out. Looking forward to hearing your stuff.

And Albuquerque would be in New Mexico. We're actually heading there next week, right after we finish up in Utah. You gonna be there for a while? We can hang out if you wanna.

Let me know. Tell that girl it's all good.

Hustle, Loyalty, Respect,

JC

* * *

_From: Morgan Oliver Lee  
To: John Felix Anthony Cena _

_Subject: RE:RE:You're Insane  
Date: Monday, 9th Oct 2006 08:49:35_

You did WHAT? John you'd better nor show for face in Albuquerque in New Mexico cos I will kick your butt all the way back to West Newbury! I had no idea you were such a meddler Cena!

What am I gonna say when he mails me? Fuck!

Yes, I'm here in Al-butt-hole-querque till late October. And yes, I would love to hang out again. It'll give a chance to strangle you with your own Championship belt. I hope that shoulder gives you plenty of aggro!

I think I'm gonna write a song about you now! Thanks for the inspiration! I shall name it, 'Death to Cena'.

Regards,

M

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shutting down the lid of his laptop, John Cena grinned ruefully at Morgan's words. So he may have gotten a little involved in Morgan's business, but it wasn't as though Morgan was going to e-mail him of his own volition. He just gave him a friendly nudge in the right direction. Looking up, John's glance fell on the man in question, Jeff Hardy who was just entering the gym.

Placing his laptop back into it's case, John got up from his crossed legged position and walked the length of the room to intercept Jeff.

"Jeff man, what's up?" Cena took Jeff's hand, and the pair collided in a man hug, "you messaged Morgan yet?"

Pulling off his grey sweater revealing a black vest to Jeff shrugged it to the ground. "Yeah, I sent him something just before I left the hotel. He seems like a cool kid. Why, he said anything?"

"Only that he was looking forward to hearing from you," John grinned, "and he's actually gonna be in Albuquerque next week when we role through. He said he'd love to hang out with us. You up for it?"

"Definitely man." Jeff nodded. John grinned as he patted Hardy on the back, turning to go back to where he had been working out, thinking of what he could reply with to Morgan, "hey John?"

Stopping in his tracks, Cena turned back to face John. His eyebrow raised as he noted Jeff's expression, his eyebrows knitted together, looking as though the was trying to figure out what to say. "'Sup?"

Exhaling briefly, Jeff continued. "Do you think…maybe…that if I asked him, Morgan would go out with me…like on a date kinda…?"

Jeff raised his sea green eyes, waiting for John's reaction, fully expecting a full bodied laugh and a resounding no. John seemed to ponder the words carefully before he spoke. "Jeff…are you…I mean do you like guys?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Jeff pulled his long purple hair back into a loose ponytail. "Not exclusively. I've been with girls and guys. Shannon Moore and me were together a few years ago, but we broke up and ended up with other girls. His relationship lasted, but mine didn't. But, I don't define attraction by gender tags. You like who you like, y'know?"

"Yeah," John replied, trying to remain cool. He wasn't one to judge anyone, but he certainly never expected to hear such an admission from Jeff, "and, um, I don't if I could speak on his behalf, but I'm pretty sure he'd say yes if you asked him. I know he likes you anyway."

Jeff's smile was both relieved and pleased. Maybe John was betraying a confidence of sorts, but it was true that Morgan liked Jeff, so why shouldn't he give them a nudge in the right direction. From what he knew of Jeff, he was a good guy who wouldn't screw Morgan around, plus the British singer had admitted that he had crushed out on Jeff for years, not to mention how excited he had been at meeting him. Maybe John was actually doing the right thing by Morgan?

Smiling to himself as he rubbed his hands together, John returned to his lap top to compose his reply to Morgan.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_From: Jeffrey Nero Hardy Morgan Oliver Lee  
Subject: Hello  
Date: Tuesday, 10th Oct 2006 09:13:00 -0700 (PDT_)

Dear Morgan,

Hi! I hope you don't mind me getting your e-mail address from John, but I wanted to get in touch. I hope that's okay.

I really enjoyed meeting you a few weeks ago after RAW. I didn't say it at the time, and I apologise but I was just getting ready for my match, but I like your music. It's not the kind of stuff I normally buy, but I've got to say that I enjoyed your album very much. I stuck it on my iPod and I listen to it a lot. 'We're Not Gonna Sleep' is really great to work out too by the way.

Anyway, just wanted to say it was really cool to meet you, and I hope we can catch up again soon.

Hopefully talk to you soon? Send me a message anytime.

Take care man,

Jeff

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Looking up from his computer monitor, Morgan rubbed his eyes vigorously before looking back at the screen, wondering inently if the words were going to still be there. Not satisfied with the proof he had from checking his vision, Morgan pinched the skin on the back of his hand just to make sure. It was a tired cliche, but you could never be too careful, and Morgan honestly could not believe his eyes. It was like something froma dream and fanstasy all at once, rolled into one fantastic e-mail message. And as ever, the words remained on the screen.

"Elsie!", Morgan yelled at the top of his voice, making everyone in the recording studio jump violently through shock at his screeching voice broke what had been a comfortable, and productive silence, "clear my schedule for next week! I'm hanging out with the guys from WWE!"

Crossing the studio, Elsie stopped behind Morgan. Reading the e-mail message over his shoulder, she raised an eyebrow sceptically, a small chuckle escaped over her lips. She guessed Morgan would be doing more than just hanging out when the men from WWE came to town…


	5. Could This Night Get Any Weirder?

**_A/N : _Update. New chapter for you guys. Thank you for the feedback everyone, it really means a lot for this story in particular. I hope you enjoy this one, and I disclaim! Please read and review. We start off with Morgan's reply e-mail to Jeff...**

* * *

_From : Morgan Oliver Lee_

_To: Jeffrey Nero Hardy  
Subject: RE:  
Date: Thursday, 12th Oct 2006 22:03:59_

Dear Jeff,

Hey man! It was awesome to hear from you. It's absolutely fine you got my e-mail from Cena. I'm sorry I didn't e-mail you myself, but I've been a little wrapped up in my new album, you know how it goes J

And I'm really pleased you like my album, that mean's a lot coming from you. You'll have to send me some of your stuff. It isn't really available back home, so I'd really appreciate it if you could let me hear some of it, I'm sure its awesome.

I didn't really get to say much to you when I met you, but I'm a big fan. I've been watching you since Wrestlemania 2000, where you did that Swanton from the top of that ladder to the floor. That looked like it hurt a lot. And I've been a fan since then hehehe J

I don't know if John mentioned it, but I'm in Albuquerque at the moment - he said you guys were coming through? Well I'm meeting some of your 'colleagues' in a restaurant called Martoni's I think he said, so if you're free you should definitely come hang out with us. If you want that is. It would be cool to hang out with you.

Well it was really cool to talk to you!

Warm Regards,

M

* * *

As if predetermined, John Cena glanced up from the table where he was sat just in time to see the arrival of Morgan. His slender form appeared at the front desk, both hands pushed somewhat nervously into the pockets of his expensive looking designer jeans. He had on a short sleeved dark blue patterned shirt, with a long-sleeved white top underneath. The dirty blonde hair had obviously been straightened at hung in perfect lines around his amazing cheek bones. From behind the curtain of his hair, Morgan's oceanic mesmerising blue eyes searched the room for signs of his company for the evening.

As Morgan glanced, he caught sight of John Cena, waving his hand. A brief smile touching his lips, Morgan made his way across the restaurant, dodging between tables and other customers as he made his way in the direction of the table. A quick head count let Morgan in on who was present this evening. John Cena, Randy Orton, Trish Stratus, Torrie Wilson, Candice Michelle and Batista all sat around the circular table, watching Morgan making his way over.

Feeling a little uncomfortable with everyone's eyes on him, Morgan made a brief wave before lowering himself into the seat next to John. He was immediately seized upon by the waiter, offering him a selection of wines, all of which he turned down. Fumbling nervously with his napkin, Morgan did his best to avoid eye contact, particularly from the staring Randy Orton.

"Hey Morgan, how's it going?" Batista's tone was jovial, matched with a genuinely warm smile. His impressive frame was covered by what Morgan guessed was an Armani suit, and he looked amazing. Batista wasn't Morgan's type, but the young singer could see what his best friend saw in the 'Animal'. If nothing else, he was buff.

"I'm good thanks. I'm sorry I'm late by the way, I lost track of time." Offering a brief smile of apology, as he glanced to his left, noting another empty seat, "I guess I'm not the last to arrive? There's someone else to come?"

"That would be me." Morgan visibly straightened at the gravely southern tone coming from behind him. Beneath the table, his hand shot out, gripping John's in a vice like grip. Without turning around, Morgan knew exactly who it was, and felt his heart pounding as a result. Almost against his own will, he pivoted on his seat to get a better look at who had spoken.

In a simple white shirt and black dress pants, Jeff Hardy smiled softly down at Morgan, before taking the seat next to him. A wave of Jeff's cologne hit him, and Morgan was suddenly very glad he was sat down. He immediately understood the saying 'weak at the knees'. Morgan couldn't pin point what exactly was so attractive about Jeff.

Technically, he was a good looking man, that much couldn't be denied. But his 'eccentric' nature tended to cover his looks with vivid streaks of body paint and other such theatrical traits. Tonight, he seemed to have toned the look down somewhat, not looking at all out of place with everyone else around. His multi-toned purple hair was pulled back in a ponytail travelling down his back. Not that Morgan would have cared. Jeff could come dressed in a bin liner and he would still be indescribably hot.

Realising he had been staring at Jeff ever since he had arrived, Morgan's head snapped around back to the front, much to the amused expression of Candice who was sat opposite. Releasing the grip on John's hand, Morgan reached out for his glass of water, taking a deep sip of the cooling liquid. Beneath the table, John massaged his hand with his other, feeling almost as though he had been burned.

The silence which had reigned, was broken by Torrie's sing-song voice. She had been busily playing with a breadstick, but had decided to get in on the conversation. "So Morgan, you're from the U.K right? What do you make of the U.S.A?"

Morgan replaced the glass on the table, seemingly carefully considering his answer before committing it to actual spoken words. "It's a definite culture shock. This country is just so different to mine on so many different levels. And I don't think I ever really appreciated just how big it really was."

"Are we really that different?" Candice grinned from across the table. In her hands, she cradled her glass of red wine, swirling the liquid in lazy circular motions around in the bottom of her glass, all the while watching Morgan with interest.

"Surprisingly yes," Morgan conceded, "for one thing, you guys are so much happier. I think I've been wished a good day in every store I've set foot in. You just don't get that back home.. Nobody ever wants to help you in the U.K. You're treated as more of an inconvenience. Although I don't think you'd find a five-hundred pound gigolo offering to sell you his toothbrush in Britain either."

John, along with the others, exploded into laughter, slamming his fist down on the table top. "Some guy offered to sell you his toothbrush?"

"Yeah. He said it was 'like new' with one previous owner, and it was in good condition. It was just outside a Wal-Mart that he accosted me actually. Really classy I know." Morgan rolled his eyes, grabbing the menu before him. Flicking open the red leathered bound book, he ran his eyes over the different food stuffs, trying to decide on what he wanted to eat as the others laughed on.

"Many guys hit on you do they?" Morgan raised his eyes to Randy as he registered the question. The 'Legend Killer' seemed to take a distinct pleasure in teasing Morgan for some reason, much to the chagrin on John. Randy's grin was almost toxic, as Trish dutifully landed a punch on his arm, muttering obscenities at her _sometimes_ boyfriend.

"In Wal-Mart? No," Morgan countered, causing Jeff to snigger. Trying to pass it off as a cough, he watched Morgan with interest, "but when I was in New York, a pimp offered to get me work. He said I could have quite the career as a high-class hooker if I was interested. I felt kinda loved after that."

"Really?" Jeff gently touched Morgan's forearm, drawing the singer's attention to him. His sea green eyes held Morgan's deep blue orbs with amused interest. The 'Xtreme' Daredevil's beautiful lips curved in the most heart-melting smile Morgan had ever seen.

Trying not to react to Jeff's attractiveness, Morgan answered as impassively as he could. "Oh absolutely. Apparently I have the kind of face that's popular with Japanese Business Men. Only in America could I win a Grammy one night, then get offered a job as a rent boy the next. No wonder they call it the land of opportunity."

From across the table, Candice clutched her stomach, fighting for breath through her gale of laughter. "Morgan, I bet you would be so much fun on a night out." Morgan smiled appreciatively at the comment, turning his attention to Randy.

"I am usually," he began, a hint of venom in his voice, "when I'm not being dry humped by metro sexual Abercrombie and Fitch models." Both Trish and Candice began laughing at the insinuation, with Randy looking stony faced, acting as though he wasn't bothered by the description of his previous encounter with Morgan.

"I'm hungry," John blurted, "are we going to eat any time soon?" Craning his thick neck, Cena scanned the restaurant for signs of a waiter so he could place their order. Glancing up from his menu, Morgan stole a quick glance at Jeff, who had been watching Morgan intently. Catching eye contact with Jeff, Morgan couldn't help but smile before hiding his head once more feeling colour burn into his cheeks.

"Oh shit." Batista's expletive caught everyone's attention, as they all sought to follow his line of sight. One by one, everyone's face dropped as they recognised who had just entered the restaurant. Removing Ashley's coat, Chris Master planted a kiss on the back of her exposed neck, much to the petit blonde's delight, as she giggled into his tight embrace.

Everyone's eyes shot to John, who couldn't help but groan at the sight of his ex girlfriend. His face creased slightly into a shadow of pain, feeling his heart plummet from his chest to the pit of his stomach. Turning around to face back to the front, John dipped his head, clutching at the table cloth. He had spent the months after his break up with Ashley doing everything he could avoid her. Even now, just seeing her tore him apart inside. No matter what anyone said, no matter how much his heart had broken when he found out she had cheated on him, he couldn't help but love her. To John, she was the perfect girl, and he had lost her to someone else.

"Are you okay?" Morgan asked, resting his hand on John's forearm. He recognised Ashley as being a WWE Diva and Chris Masters. His face was a picture of concern, but John didn't turn to face Morgan. Remembering his previous conversation with John about his 'ex' it became all too clear what was going on. As if answering his own questions, Morgan could only utter "oh."

"Why do they need to come over here?" Trish hissed, straightening herself up as she noted that the couple were making their way over to the group of superstars sat around the table. Master's face was open, offering a sheepish smile in greeting to everyone.

"Hey guys, what's up?" No-one made any real effort to respond to Chris, flashing half smiles and brief mumbled words of welcome. Ashley looked terribly uncomfortable, not making eye contact with anyone, seemingly mesmerised by her shoes as she stared down at her feet.

Clearly, the uncomfortable silence wasn't going to end anytime soon. Shifting in his seat, Morgan turned to John, leaning his head closer to the WWE Champion. Lowering his voice to a whisper, Morgan made his suggestion. "You wanna get out of here?"

Taking the nod of John's head as an affirmative, Morgan stood up out of his seat, smiling apologetically at everyone else sat around the table, each understanding what was going without words. John followed suit, standing straight up, his muscles tensed to the point of pain, and still refusing to turn and face the girl who had broken his heart. Keeping his back to her at all times, even if it meant he left the restaurant rather awkwardly, John was simply glad of the respite, gladly following Morgan to the exit and out of the restaurant.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You know what I don' get," John Cena drawled, slapping at a line of spittle that dribbled out from his mouth as he spoke, "is why she did it. I mean, it's _Chrish_ Masters for fuck's sake…look at him! He sticks 'roid up his huge ass and he gets my girl? What _ish_ up with that? What the fuck did I do wrong?"

Morgan groaned in response, awkwardly propping Cena up with the large man's arms slung around his shoulder. Staggering along the sidewalk, Morgan was getting the workout of his life, trying to move the mountain of muscle safely back to his hotel. After leaving the restaurant due to the arrival of Ashley, the pair had gone to a Sports Bar, where John had downed more alcohol than Morgan thought was humanly possible. He had joked that maybe Cena had a hollow leg, but still the Champion had continued to knock back shots of spirits and bottles of beer like his life depended on it.

And now, at a little after one am, John was completely wasted and could no longer move under his own power. Which meant Morgan had to walk him home. An incredibly difficult feet consider their relative sizes and John's muscle mass. The British singer had cursed the city's lack of Taxi's, vowing to never set foot in Albuquerque as long as he lived.

"Am I ugly Morgan? Am I repulsive? If I was like completely unattractive, you would tell me wouldn't you? Is that why she slept with him? Cos I'm so ugly she couldn't bare to be with me." Awkwardly, John leant his head onto Morgan's shoulder, upsetting the smaller man's balance, sending them staggering towards the road.

Fighting back into a stable walking pace, the pair continued further forward in their staggering walking pattern. This wasn't like Morgan, to be the responsible sober one. Still, for once in his life he was glad of the age restrictions on drinking. Morgan groaned with relief as he saw how close he was getting to the hotel where John was staying. "You're not ugly John."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better…" John wailed, his head lolling backwards. Grunting with frustration, Morgan staggered forward, gritting his teeth. The burn in his shoulders and lower back was considerable, but he would get John home if he had to drag him there by his feet. Which actually sounded like a decent idea, Morgan mused.

"I'm not just saying it John. I'm not like that. If I thought you were a total beast, I would tell you. You're not, you're a very attractive guy." Morgan's voice was strained, his eyes pleading for the hotel which was getting closer about as slowly as it could.

"So you'd sleep with me?" John uttered, rolling his head to look at Morgan. Finally setting foot into the hotel lobby, Morgan looked up into John's hazy eyes, noting the look of cunning in the steely grey beyond the bleary eyed look of a drunk.

Waving sheepishly at the hotel employee manning the check in desk in the lobby, Morgan did his best to manoeuvre John into the elevator, having real difficulty supporting John and trying to push the button to get to the correct floor. Mercifully, he managed to push the buttons, and the large oak doors close as a result.

"What are you wittering about?" Morgan's eyes watched John's expression with some interest. To ask if he would sleep with John seemed a rather random and odd question to pose to him. Guessing it was because Cena was so drunk, Morgan decided to leave the query unanswered. The gentle hum of the elevator stopped, as they reached the floor on which John's room was situated.

Bracing himself to carry John further, the pair stumbled out of the carriage, making their way unsteadily down the hallway to the right room. "I asked…would you sleep with me. If you find me attractive, you'd fuck me right?"

Rolling his eyes, Morgan was far too exhausted to consider the possible ramifications for saying yes. "Okay, yes John, I would sleep with you."

Grinning, John stopped in the doorway to his room, either intentionally or otherwise leaning his weight onto Morgan, pushing his frame against the that of the doorway. Lolling his head forward, John raised his head, as a result grazing his lips up the length of Morgan's neck. "That's cool. I'd sleep with you too…y'know…if I was into guys and everythin'…

"You wanna take a step back there you old lush," Morgan uttered, feeling a little uncomfortable with John pressing down onto him. "Where's your room key?" Twisting uncomfortably, Morgan tried to free himself from John's weight, to no avail.

Hazing in an out of conscious thought, John managed to utter the word 'Pocket', his body feeling incredibly limp. Somewhere inside, he knew he was going to regret being this drunk tomorrow, but for now he didn't care. He'd rather feel completely out of it than deal with the pain of heartbreak of seeing Ashley again.

Sighing, Morgan reached his hand into John's front pocket. Patting around, he gripped the plastic card between his fingers, and quickly withdrew his hand, clicking it into place in the black reader on the door. Once again supporting Cena, Morgan pulled the large man into the room, practically dragging him into the room, before they both collapsed face first onto the huge white bed.

Wriggling free of John's massive arm, Morgan slid off the bed. Groaning with effort, he reached down to John's feet, bringing them both up onto the bed and removing his shoes in the process. "This is so wrong." he muttered, as he began to unbutton John's shirt, noting that the huge wrestler had slipped into some kind of drunken slumber. With the garment undone, he now had the arduous task of taking the actual thing off. With much jostling and tugging, Morgan managed to do just that, and slung the shirt onto the chair near-by, admiring the sculpted muscles hidden beneath the clothing.

Hesitating slightly, Morgan mumbled an apology, and that he 'wasn't trying anything' as he began to unbuckle John's denim cut off pants. Gripping the base of the long shorts, Morgan gave a gentle tub, sliding the them down John's legs and over his feet. Slapping his hand to his mouth, Morgan became all to aware of the large erection John was sporting, straining for release from beneath his white boxer shorts. His first, perhaps inappropriate thought - _what woman in their right mind would give **that** up?_

"They are staying on." Morgan chuckled, moving away from the bed heading into the bathroom. As John partially roused himself, not totally aware of where he was, his eyes fluttered open to the dim light of his hotel room, his breath coming out in sharp ragged gasps. Morgan returned, with a full glass of water. Placing it on the bedside table, he moved to leave the room but was instead stopped. Feeling John's massive grip on his wrist, the singer found himself hauled onto the bed, thrown directly onto his back.

In a second, John was on top of Morgan, crushing his mouth against the singers in a desperate kiss. Morgan felt John's hips grinding against his, with the singular sensation of Cena's erection humping in between his thighs. Pushing his hands against John's massive shoulders, Morgan twisted his head away, trying to get free of the pin. Even if he wasn't tired as he was feeling, there was no way Morgan had the strength to push John off of him if the superstar didn't want to move.

Morgan yelped as John nipped at his neck, feeling the large hands slide beneath the hem of his shirt, grasping its way over his smooth stomach. "John…John you need to stop…" Morgan moaned, feeling a little more than turned on at John's insistent lips burning his neck, desperate to taste Morgan's mouth. If he took much more of this delicious attack, and Morgan knew he would gladly forget why this whole situation was wrong and just give in the to wild lust.

Thankfully, something seemed to register in John. Resting his weight on his forearms, he looked down at Morgan with confusion in his steely blue eyes, expressing regret and apologies. Gently, Morgan slid out from beneath John's frame. "Morgan…man…I'm really sorry…I…"

"It's cool John," Morgan uttered, straightening out his clothes, "I think you might wanna stay off the booze for a while. Just sleep it off okay?" Not waiting for an answer, or wanting to make John feel anymore uncomfortable than he was sure he was, Morgan left John alone in the room, as he scurried out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him with a resounding thud. Picking up speed, Morgan hurried down the corridor, not looking where he was going. As a result, he crashed into whoever had been standing nearby.

Caught in the arms of whoever it was, Morgan was lucky that he wasn't sent spiralling to the ground. Looking up, he was confronted with the most beautiful sea green eyes he had ever seen. Jeff Hardy smiled softly, his eyebrows raised slightly as he regarded Morgan. "What's your hurry there?"

"Jeff…god I'm sorry, I wasn't looking…" Morgan stuttered, seemingly paralysed between the arms of the man he'd had a crush on for years. Feeling the colour flush into his cheeks, Morgan just wished the ground would open and swallow him whole. This evening really could not get any more weird for him, could it?

"You're looking a little flustered. Is everything alright?" Jeff expressed genuine concern, which only seemed to make Morgan feel so much worse. Sighing, he raked his hands back through his hair, putting on the best smile he was capable of right now.

"It's been a strange night," Morgan admitted, "I guess I just want to get to my hotel room and sleep." His smile was weak, but at least Morgan was being honest. So much had happened, and he felt both physically and mentally tired. Who knew dinner would have turned into such drama?

"May I walk you to your room?" Jeff's question caught Morgan off guard, so much so his mouth hung open. Snapping it shut, he nodded his head, vaguely starting off in the direction of where is room was. Jeff followed, falling into step next to Morgan, as they entered the elevator carriage. Morgan relaxed himself back against the panelled wall, not sure if he should look at Jeff or not, to say nothing about making conversation. The ride seemed painfully silent, and finally the doors opened to reveal Morgan's floor. Intelligent thought escaped him. All he wanted now was to sleep.

Reaching the door to his room, Morgan breathed a silent sight of relief. Turning to face Jeff with a gentle smile, Morgan was genuinely appreciative for company, even if neither said anything. "Morgan, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." he replied, wondering what possibly Jeff could have to say at this time of the morning. _Please don't let it be what happened with John. That will take some explaining, and I'm not in the right state of mind to make a convincing lie right now…_

Licking his lips, Jeff looked as though he were considering his words. "I was wondering, if you're free tomorrow, if you wanted to go out with me. I know this really nice Mexican restaurant just on the outskirts of the city. It's really nice and usually pretty quiet."

Morgan watched with his mouth hanging open. It seemed to be a regular occurrence whenever is concerned that Jeff, that Morgan would like mildly retarded. And to add fuel to the image, all Morgan could think to say was 'Huh?"

Jeff smiled, closing the distance slightly between himself and Morgan. "I like you." he uttered softly, gently placing his hand on Morgan's hip, clearly stating what he meant by asking Morgan out. His eyes seemed to search Morgan face, to see if what he was doing okay. Finding no resistance there, Jeff's hand slid further, to caress the curve of Morgan's lower back. Dipping his head down, Jeff gently pressed his lips against those of Morgan's. His wide eyed expression slowly melted into his eyes closing, as Morgan responded, kissing Jeff back, losing his hand to the back of Hardy's neck.

Softly, Jeff pulled back, resting his forehead against Morgan's. "You're not drunk are you?" Morgan blurted, his thoughts betraying him as he wondered if this was a repeat of what had happened with John Cena a few moment's ago.

"Huh?" Jeff replied, genuinely confused as to what Morgan meant.

"Never mind." Morgan grinned, trying to ignore the feeling of colour flushing into his cheeks and his neck. The exhalation of Jeff's breath danced across Morgan's cheek, raising a smile amongst other things.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Jeff whispered question tickled Morgan's ear, causing his skin to tingle.

"Yeah…tomorrow…" Morgan responded, causing Jeff to plant a kiss on the tip of his nose. Stepping away, Jeff reluctantly let go of Morgan's hand, before walking down the hallway unable to keep the smile from his lips, leaving Morgan to ponder just what was going on.

_Am I dreaming? _Not only had he been pounced on by a wasted John Cena, but now the guy Morgan had had a crush on since he didn't know when had just asked him out on a date. _This has been the weirdest night ever. _Sighing, Morgan decided not to think about it any further, that would only lead to more problem, more questions for which he didn't have any real answers. The best solution was to admit defeat for the time being. He would sleep for now, and deal with whatever happened next tomorrow.


	6. A Mistake?

**_A/N : _Update. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. **

**I try not to do individual shot outs, but I have to say thank you so much to 'The Queen' and Vera for posting their kind words and thoughts on my story. For those of you who don't know, these two ladies are the reason I started writing, they gave me the confidence to post my stories for the first time. So, I am forever thankful to them both for their inspiration, and their support of my stories. You guys are amazing, and huge welcome back to 'The Queen'!!**

**And to my faithful reviewers, you guys absolutely mean the world to me. I thank you whole-heartedly for continutally posting your comments and thoughts on what I write. I feel very blessed! I love this story, and although I don't update as often as I probably should, I think it might just be favourite, mostly because I love Morgan. Biased I may be, but he's awesome guy to write! . So, with that said, I disclaim! Please read and review!!**

* * *

For possibly the eighteenth time three minutes, Morgan flipped open his cell phone, his eyes devouring the display for signs of a text message from John Cena. And for the nineteenth time, he was disappointed. Since their evening activities the night before, Morgan had heard nothing from John. He had stopped by his room in the morning, only to be told by the passing Candice that Cena had gone to the gym with a few of the other superstars. So, Morgan had settled for sending a text message to John, asking how he was and if he was feeling terribly hung over.

Nice and casual. No mention of the dry humping. John had failed to respond. In fact, he hadn't replied to any of the following four text messages Morgan had sent. Wonder if he appeared like some kind of stalker, the British singer let it slide. If, by some inconvenient stroke of luck, John did remember what had gone down between himself and Morgan the night before, he guessed that the WWE Champion would be monumentally embarrassed.

John had pretty much offered it to Morgan on a plate. Scratch that, he had pounced on Morgan, clearly with one very specific goal on his mind. Through Morgan's insistent protestations, he had managed to prevent anything from going too far, but he knew all too well that probably wasn't going to be enough to calm Cena's conscience.

The unavoidable truth was that this wasn't the first time something like this had happened to Morgan. Indeed, he'd been hit on, kissed, groped and commanded to perform oral sex on so many drunk straight men that he was ashamed to even count how many it had been. Morgan surmised, that no matter how heterosexual a guy might be, you ply him with the right amount and cocktail of high quality booze, and his desire for carnal satisfaction would easily out-weigh his macho sexual orientation. And of course, the few times Morgan himself had been too drunk to fight off the slovenly advances, he had had to deal with the fallout the following morning. The protestations of _'I ain't queer' _or _'If you tell anyone about this I'm gonna kick your ass'. _It was a failing of straight men to not be able to recognise the evening for what it was.

They wanted sex. Morgan was willing. It was about satisfaction, and nothing more.

But would John see it that way? If Morgan was honest with himself, it felt like there was a little more behind John's advances than just drunken desire. His defences were low, his heart was broken. Maybe he chose Morgan because he had been a friend to him recently? Maybe in his drunken state, the lines of friendship and love had become so blurred for John that he turned to Morgan for support. Whatever the reason for it, it shouldn't have happened. Morgan felt a little guilty for the heated kiss, even though common sense said it wasn't his fault. It wasn't as though he had taken advantage of John when he had the chance, and boy were there plenty of chances, but he couldn't help but feel a little responsible for putting John in that position.

_It's your fault because you were a friend to the guy? Getting a grip Morgan. _Shaking his head, Morgan snapped his phone shut, before checking out his appearance in the mirror. He was easily as nervous as he had ever been in his entire life. He was merely minutes away from his date with Jeff Hardy.

_I'm going on a date with Jeff Hardy._ Morgan wondered if he said it anymore, it would actually start to feel more real. This man, a beautiful human being with soulful eyes and a fantastic butt was easily the man of Morgan's dreams. He had lusted after him for years, Jeff being one of the first people he had feelings for when Morgan's sexuality dawned on him. To meet him was a lifetime ambition fulfilled. To be going out on a date? It was the kind of event you didn't even dare to dream about, because that idea of perfection should never be felt by a mere mortal. It was amazing. Pure and simple. Just amazing.

Slamming his hand down onto the dresser surface, Morgan dragged his hand back through his hair. _If it's so fucking amazing Morgan, why can't you focus on it? Why are you so pre-occupied with seeing John? Get it together._ Pulling his t-shirt down slightly, Morgan swore a guttural word. Like it or not, there was no way he'd be able to relax and enjoy himself with Jeff tonight unless he cleared the air with John. Glancing at the clock, then back at his reflection, Morgan swore again. Grabbing his card key off the surface, he headed towards the door. John had to be back from the gym by now. Just a brief conversation to get things clear, then he'd be free to enjoy himself.

Morgan wrenched the door open, running over the conversation in his head. He was so pre-occupied, he almost didn't see John Cena stood in front of him, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

"John…hey, I was just coming to see you." Morgan smiled disarmingly, which only caused more alarm in John. Feeling colour flushing into his cheeks, words spilled over his lips in no cohesive order, "you want to come inside?"

John nodded appreciatively, stepping past Morgan into the room, hoping his face wasn't the beetroot red he felt it was. Not that he would admit it, but John had been stood outside Morgan's room for the past twenty minutes, pacing back and forth the section of hallway as he tried to figure out what to say. Now he was sat on Morgan's bed, opposite the guy he had kissed last night, the English language escaped him.

"How are you feeling?" Morgan chirped, leaping into the air, landing onto the bed next to John in a cross legged position. Not that he wanted to, but Morgan was aware that John automatically scooted softly away from Morgan. It was only slight, but obvious enough for Morgan to see.

"I'm good thanks man," John lied, feeling as though he was ready to vomit all over his brand new sneakers, "I don't really get hang-overs too bad. I just went to the gym early and worked out for a few hours. Ain't nothing' better to clear your head."

"Really, so that's why you didn't answer my text messages, you were working out so hard?" Morgan prodded, keeping himself disarming, an amused smile crossing his pouted lips. He was feeling a little unease at being around John. He wasn't the usual affable guy he normally was. He seemed to be acting more 'thug' than normal.

"I didn't get them." _Another lie, you're two for two John._ "I mean I did, but only just now. It's why I came by. Didn't want you to think I was avoiding you or nothing'." Morgan tilted his head slightly, as if studying what John had said. His eyebrow twitched, as he was trying to keep it from arching upwards.

"Why would I think you were avoiding me John?" Keeping the tone as light as possible, Morgan couldn't help but think John had revealed a little more than he had intended to. So he had been avoiding Morgan, but it wasn't exactly a crime was it? The guy did kind of humiliate himself, at least by 'straight man' standards.

"I wasn't." _Keep on lying John. You're getting good. That's three in two minutes._ "I just hit the gym, and kind of forgot about everything else. I wasn't ignoring you man, we're good." For the first time during the conversation, John offered a smile. It was strained, and didn't touch his steely blue eyes, but at least he'd get points for effort.

Morgan sighed, losing the passive demeanour he had been displaying. "Look, the weirdness if just pissing me off now, so if you're not gonna talk about the elephant in the room, I guess I'll have too." Licking his lips, Morgan thought about his next words carefully. This would be the absolute worst time to say the wrong thing. "Last night?" was the best he could manage.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, John's startled expression puzzled Morgan. Obviously it had to be discussed. "Listen man," John tried, unintentionally sticking out his chest, increasing his size as if it made him more masculine, "it was a mistake. I was ass backward and drunk… I didn't know what the fuck I was doin'…I don't do wrong shit like that. I ain't like you. I ain't a fag."

_Oh fuckin' marvellous choice of words, dick head! _John instantly regretted the words, but there was no way to take them back. Morgan screwed up his nose, clearly repulsed by the word and its usage to describe Morgan's sexual orientation. What made it worse, was John was sure he saw a flash of hurt buried deep in the oceanic depths of Morgan's eyes.

And maybe even just a little disappointment. "I see." Morgan ventured, his teeth gritting more than he would like. "For future reference, I hate that word, so don't ever use it in front of me again. And in case you didn't realise, there's nothing 'wrong' with being gay, so don't insinuate there is."

"I didn't mean it like that," John fired back. He didn't want this to turn into a confrontation, that was the very last thing he wanted. He couldn't let his mistakes alienate his friend like this. "I just meant I'm not into guys. You are, and that's cool. I just didn't want you to think I was into you or nothing'…cos I'm really not."

"Oh thanks," Morgan rolled his eyes and John's words, making his sound positively undesirable, "and you've been hanging out with Randy Orton too much if you assume that I'd care if you're into me or not." _Two can make throw away, hurtful comments John. I just chose not to use derogatory terms to describe you._

"Look man, it was a mistake and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on or nothing'," John missed the incredulous expression as it crossed Morgan's face, "and I want us to still be friends. You're an awesome dude and all…but I'm hopin' you ain't gonna say nothin' to no-one 'bout what happened. I got a reputation and all, and I ain't into guys."

"Yes John," Morgan snapped, "I think we've established you don't like men. And if you say it one more time I'm going to pay for it to be tattooed onto your forehead. And I don't plan on saying anything to anyone. I thought you'd at least give me that much credit."

"Morgan, I didn't mean to…" John's tone was apologetic. John could see he was only making things worse, and he desperately wanted to mend things with Morgan before it got out of control. It seemed Morgan wasn't interested.

"And just for your information John, you're aren't the first straight guy who's tried it on with me because they were wasted. And just like I told them, I don't care if you're gay straight or into fucking horses, it doesn't mean anything. It's just two bodies in need of gratification. It doesn't need the bollocks psychoanalysis. So just get a grip and move on already. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a date to get ready for." Stepping up from the bed, Morgan made his way to the door.

"A date?" Noting the unsure tone in his own voice, John rushed to continue, "with who?"

"Why does it matter?" Morgan retorted for John to make his way to the door. He was angry, upset and disappoint all at once. He really had expected more from John, or at least the ability to handle things better. If Morgan had one flaw, it was too easily seeing the best in people. He was always disappointed. Put your faith in people, and they just fuck you over. Sometimes, he honestly wondered if it would be better to just close your yourself off entirely. Sure, you'd miss out on love, but at least no-one could hurt you that way.

Begrudgingly, John lifted himself from the bed. This had gone completely in the opposite direction than he had wanted. Why did he have to be such a dick about things? Morgan clearly didn't care, and now he'd gone and offended his friend by suggesting he was untrustworthy, and it was somehow not okay to be gay. Opening his mouth to offer some form of apology, Cena was cut off as Morgan opened the door for him to leave, to be confronted by Jeff Hardy.

"Jeff, you're here!" Morgan exclaimed, practically jumping out of his skin as he noted the tall North Carolina bred wrestler standing in his doorway. Jeff's smile was glowing as he looked at Morgan, causing the singer's heart to turn in a knee-weakening way.

"I am. Are you ready to go, or…" Jeff cast a glance to his left, noting the presence of John Cena. He wasn't bothered by John being in Morgan's room, just surprised more than anything else. He knew Morgan and John were good friends, he just hadn't expected to see him here.

For John, he was both shocked and not surprised to see Jeff standing in Morgan's doorway. A feeling crept over John, one which he didn't know how to explain. Whatever it was, it was uncomfortable, making John feel uneasy in Jeff and Morgan's presence. Whatever it was, Cena had to push it aside. He knew better than to just walk out on Morgan, leaving things in the state they were. If he could just apologise, or at the very least get Morgan to agree to meet him soon so he could explain himself a little better, it would be better.

"Morgan I -…" John started, but wasn't given the change to finish.

"Goodbye John." Morgan said it without looking at John, his jaw grim and locked into position. Defeated, John nodded his head slightly towards Jeff before leaving the room. Turning over his shoulder, he saw Jeff slide into the room and Morgan close the door behind him. That feeling took over John once more, and suddenly there was a word to describe what it was that was gnawing away at him.

_Was he jealous of Jeff? _How could John be jealous of Jeff? He wasn't into Morgan like that, they were just friends. Maybe it was just John feeling overprotective of his friend, or guilty at handling things so badly but his heart sank at the idea of losing Morgan's friendship. He had to make thins right. If only Morgan would give him the chance to.


	7. Hung Up On You

**_A/N : _Update. New chapter, I hope you guys enjoy. So I was originally going to write the 'date' between Morgan and Jeff, but then this chapter took on a totally different direction, which I kind of love. The date is featured, but not in its entire form. I figured I'd leave just a little bit to you guys and your imagination. **

**Thank you so much for the reviews, they are awesome guys, and they give me inspiration to write more! I disclaim, please read and review!**

**_Warning : This Chapter contains Sexual Content_**

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The groan was like none John Cena had ever made before. It was deep, guttural, and almost primal in its expression of desire and want. The lips burning unbearably gentle kisses along the length of his massive neck made his own breath hitch in his throat, setting spark to fire begging to burn in the pit of his stomach, as the warm tongue traced mind-numbing patterns over the bump that made his Adam's apple. The feeling intensified with the caress of warm breath across the top of his chest, and the ever so soft nip of teeth on the tender skin. John wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever, to succumb to the unbelievable sensations his body was experiencing, but it seemed it could only get better. 

He honestly couldn't remember who removed whose cloths first, but _his_ mouth moved downwards, licking and biting across the expanse of muscle that made up John's chest. Obviously, _his_ experience showed, teasing out each nipple to make it stand erect from the rock hard bed of John's muscles it rested in, rendering short gasps and strangled moans from John's own flushed lips. But _he_ didn't stop there, blazing a searing trail of kisses down over John's abdomen, causing the Champ to involuntarily to buck his hips up from the bed, the insistent throb of his erection an ever present thought in the back of his mind.

It seemed _he_ realised just how badly Cena needed release. At least, that what's John assumed as he felt the hand ease between his thighs to easily cup the heavy globes of flesh hanging there, gently running _his_ thumb over the tight sack, causing it to retract and shrink upwards, an all too visible sign of Cena's heightened arousal.

Sound came to John's ears, something he couldn't quite understand at first, it sounding so garbled and vague. Slowly, he realised it was his own voice, begging and pleading with _him_ to make the final descent lower, to work on the pounding pulse centred between his legs. _He_ could only oblige. The hand which had been working over his balls moved upwards, barely gripping the base of the engorged member, making painfully slow stroking motions up and down the shaft. John moaned in complaint, thrusting his hips upwards again, trying to make more friction between _his_ palm and his own hardness. The soft chuckle brought burning colour to John's cheeks. Not that it mattered, however, as _he _obliged further, tightening _his _grip and increasing the tempo of the strokes.

The rhythm was hypnotic, taking John far beyond the levels of pleasure he had ever experienced with anyone else. It was cascading ever higher, sending blinding rays of light through his body, bringing him even closer to an earth-shattering release. John could feel his legs tense, a dull ache somewhere inside behind his swollen member, sending wave after wave of continual mind-blowing pleasure, so much so that Cena felt he couldn't breath.

And John Cena was a heavy breather. During any kind of love making, he was known to huff and groan his way to an amazing release. Never, in his life, had he screamed with pleasure. At least, not until now. The feeling of _his _burning mouth swallowing the head of his erection was more than he could take. Both arms shot up, tangling the tips of his fingers into _his_ hair, begging with _him_ to stop and go faster at the same time. Losing all ability to rationalise anything, John didn't know what he wanted. And yet somehow, he did. _His _mouth worked the head, before swallowing more of thick shaft into _his _mouth, stretching it to the limit. The size was clearly too much for _him_ to take entirely, but the base of the shaft was more than satisfied with the pumping of _his_ hand, _his_ throat clenching and milking the head to its peak.

John thrashed and kicked, his voice a hoarse cry of ecstasy, feeling the mouth sucking and tasting the jutting rock hard erection he sported, pleasuring it like no-one had ever done before. As if overtaken by a fever, John started to tremble, wildly. His thighs shook with sheer intensity. It felt like liquid gold, coursing through his body into a debilitating release. John tried to give _him_ fair warning, but his voice was lost to him. Not that _he_ cared, as John exploded into _his_ mouth, pumping hot waves into the back of _his_ throat. John screamed for all he was worth, his mouth forming the single word -

"Morgan!"

The WWE Superstar's body collapsed to the bed, completely spent, but both eyes staying trained on Morgan. Grinning at John, 'The Champ' was treated to the show of swallowing, seemingly savouring every taste as he traced a finger across his bottom lip to catch any escaped drops.

"You like that…?" No sooner had he spoken the words, than had Morgan seemed to fade from view, when in reality, John was opening his eyes. The erotic dream blended awkwardly with reality, bringing John back unceremoniously to the waking world. Looking down, he blushed, as his naked stomach was a sticky mess, the erection which had produced it slowly ebbing away, softening but not losing the dull ache which had filled the dream he had had. Sitting straight up in his bed, John grabbed at the bed sheets, wiping at his stomach in a vain attempt to clean himself up. Glancing at the beside clock, he groaned at the angry red light glaring '12.54am' at him.

What had just happened? Did he really just dream about Morgan…doing that? No, that wasn't possible. Why would John dream about getting intimate with him? He certainly wasn't gay, and he felt no obvious desire towards Morgan. Was it normal to have sexual dreams about people you were friends with?

There had to be a logical explanation to all this. Of course there did. There was logic for everything. You just had to figure out what it was. Maybe it was the fact John suspected that Morgan was going to sleep with Jeff on their date. Just the idea of Jeff being with Morgan made John uncomfortable. Maybe it was that, and the fact John was torn up over how he had spoken to Morgan. All that uncertainty rushing around a guys' could do some strange shit…right?

"Fuck!" John's exclamation echoed around his empty, as he stood up from his bed, staring blankly into the dim hotel room. What was wrong with him? He briskly rubbed his hands over his face, as though it would somehow clear up his thoughts, to make it easier to figure out what had happened in the dream.

Somehow it didn't seem right, as though John had taken advantage of Morgan. The British singer was technically of legal age, but that didn't stop John from feeling wrong somehow, like he had taken advantage of Morgan during his dream. _He was the one doing all the fuckin' work!_

Shaking his head, Cena began pacing around the room, his mind whirring with explanations and feelings of guilt. Was it possible that John was attracted to Morgan? _No fuckin' way! I ain't gay! Girls are my thing!_ If that was as true as he insisted it was, why was John Cena having naughty dreams of receiving blow jobs from his gay friend. That was total fucked up in the biggest way. _Does that mean I'm gay? I can't be…I like girls. I always have. I love everything about them…I love Ashley…what is wrong with me…_

In some twisted way, John knew there was only one person who could give him answers to the many questions buzzing around in his brain. If he was the friend John thought he was, he wouldn't be judgemental of the situation, he would listen and give an honest opinion. Cena figured that was exactly what he needed right now. Gripping his cell phone from the side of his bed, he punched the familiar number in, holding the receiver to his head and waited to be connected. It seemed to ring forever, not that Cena would hang up. This was too important.

Finally, the ringing stopped as the other person picked up. "What the fuck?" Randy Orton drawled into the phone, his voice clearly breathless and laboured. "I'm getting me some ass here man! Call me tomorrow!"

"Randy, wait man! Don't hang up," John's pleading voice was enough to convince Randy not to hang up. Cena winced as he heard his friend growl, muttering a few words of apology to whomever he was with. After a few seconds, he heard the sound of a door shutting, guessing he must have walked into a different room to talk to John in privacy.

"What's up?" His voice sighed, exasperated at be interrupted during his conquest. If John could only see what he had interrupted. His naked body, rolling around with two love other, naked female bodies. If John was in this position, he too would not want to be disturbed.

"I need to ask you something," John's voice stammered a little, as he was suddenly unsure if talking to Randy about his was the best idea. Maybe he should just apologise, and hang up, be fore he embarrassed himself to point of social exclusion. Apparently, it was far too late for that.

"Shoot." Randy commanded, clearly growing impatient with John's hesitancy.

"I need to know…" licking his lips, John's mouth felt like bone dry cotton wool, "…if…if you ever….like ever…y'know…thought about…."

"Spit it the fuck out would ya?" Randy hissed, "I got two gorgeous pieces of ass fucking vibrating with the need to feel me fuck 'em silly. I ain't got time for you to pussy around."

John sighed. It was now or never. "Did you ever…like one time…ever have a dream…about you and another guy?"

The line was silent, as Randy perhaps considered what John had said. Going with the safe option, Randy responded in a more friendly tone. "I dream about you and Batista all the time. Like, in this one dream, you and I were collecting ice cream cones to win a world record or something. It was fuckin' hilarious."

"No, not that kind of dream," John clarified, "I mean, like have you ever had a dream about another guy. In a sex way…." The words sounded awful, even before they left his lips. But John needed an answer. He needed to know if dreaming about another guy was okay, maybe even acceptable. He needed some validation that it was normal, and there was nothing more behind it that his mind recycling images and thoughts from the day. _Please let it be that simple._

"Once," Randy admitted, "when I was in the Marines, I had a dream about fuckin' my Commanding Officer. I really respected the guy, and we were tight back then."

"I see." John's reply was airy and distant, as though he pondered on what Randy had admitted fitted into his own fantasy dream.

"Why? You been dreaming about banging dudes?" It was an honest question, one which carried no subtext. Orton meant nothing by it, but it didn't fail to cause alarm in Cena, as though he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Nah, nothin' like that man," John lied, "just wondered is all. Listen, I gotta go."

"You been dreaming about that Morgan kid?" Either Randy was incredibly perceptive or he had hidden psychic talents that he had failed to share. Whatever the case, it only made Cena feel a hundred times worse, as though this admission was going to cost him his reputation.

"No. Not all. I gotta go. Thanks man." With that, Cena snapped his cell phone shut, tossing it onto the bedside table. Trudging closer to the bed, he gripped the sheets with both hands, pulling them free of the bed. Tossing them into a messy ball in the corner, John climbed back into the naked bed, feeling his skin being irritated by the naked mattress. Trying his best to return to his slumber, it seemed impossible. All John could wonder, was how Morgan and Jeff's date was progressing…_and why was he so hung up on Morgan?_

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Morgan grinned like a foolish school child, tightening his grip on Jeff's hand as they made their way through the corridor, back towards Morgan's room. For Morgan, their date had been nothing short that perfect. After the confrontation with John, Jeff had arrived in the nick of time it seemed, dressed immaculately, prepared to take Morgan out on the date. He had driven them out of town, towards the restaurant of which Jeff was a fan. The pair had spent the journey talking, deepening the understanding of each other. As if testing the water, Jeff had reached for Morgan's hand, holding it in his own for the majority of the journey.

They had eaten at an intimate table for two, Morgan enjoying both Jeff's company and the delicious cuisine prepared by the Chef. It seemed he was going to have take back his harsh opinion of Albuquerque if this evening was anything to judge it by. The meal had progressed with quite conversation, Morgan finding himself drowning in the company of Jeff. Everything about him was irresistible, from the gentle smile to scent of his cologne. All of Morgan's fantasies had seemingly come true at once.

After the romantic meal, Jeff had taken Morgan to a nearby night club. It wasn't exclusively a 'gay scene', but it was frequented by both gay and straight people, mingling and dancing to the heavy beats on the dance floor. The club was filled with a mass of beautiful people, all on the prowl for a potential plaything for the evening. But Morgan and Jeff only had eyes for each other. The slow dance had been the highlight for Morgan. His body pressed so tightly to Jeff's. he could feel his heartbeat through the material of his shirt, Morgan was actually impressed with how he had managed to keep his lust under control and not just pounce on Jeff on the middle of the dance floor, regardless of who was there and what they would see.

And now, with the evening winding down, Jeff had once again asked to accompany Morgan back to his room, a gesture which the young singer found heat warming. Maybe Jeff really was the perfect man. Gorgeous, sexy, intelligent, funny, sweet, caring…Morgan went through pretty much every word he could think of which could heap glowing praise onto his date, and yet none seemed fit. None seemed to describe the beauty that was Jeff Hardy.

Morgan had had an amazing time, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't a little distracted. His little tryst with John gotten to Morgan more than he would care to admit. It was true to say that Morgan regarded John as a friend, but he honestly didn't know why he was hurt so much by what John had said. Morgan had always thought of himself to be pretty toughed skinned, but tonight had been a rude awakening for him. Whatever the reason, he was determined not to put himself in the position where he could be hurt by John again.

Sighing contentedly, Morgan stopped, turning his back to his room door to face Jeff. The North Carolinian grinned, wrapping his hands around Morgan waist, resting his forehead against his. "I had a really great time tonight Jeff."

"Me too." Jeff agreed, brushing his nose against Morgan's in a tender Eskimo kiss, causing him to giggle. He was silenced by the sensation of Jeff's lips against his, the velvet soft sensation of the skin caressing his. Morgan opened his mouth to allow Jeff's probing licks, their tongues locking into a slow sensuous duel that ravaged Morgan's body with desire. There was nothing more that he wanted right now than to ask Jeff to come in.

"Goodnight Morgan." Morgan smiled, opening his eyes to look into Jeff's. _Ever the gentlemen, _Morgan noted. Sharing one more brief kiss, Jeff took his leave, and Morgan re-entered his room. Throwing his jacket onto a nearby chair, Morgan collapsed onto his back to the soft bed. Resting his head on his hands, Morgan thought over his evening.

It had been a mixture of perfection and heartbreak. Still, it didn't matter what John said, after one date with Jeff, Morgan could already feel himself falling. And falling hard. It was exciting, and terrifying, being with some you've had a crush on. But Morgan figured he owed to himself to pursue this with Jeff. He was tired of being lonely and afraid of relationships with men. If you take the risk on someone you have real feelings for, then what was the point.

Rolling onto his stomach, Morgan decided that was a good enough excuse to be with Jeff. Allowing his eyes to drift comfortably closed, Morgan couldn't help but wonder -

_If I'm so happy about being with Jeff, why am I so hung up on John?_


	8. What Was That About?

**_A/N : _Update. New chapter for you guys. I think FanFiction is going a bit mad, as I'm not receiving PMs/alerts when I update and/or one of my favourite stories is updated. So to you guys that have told me you've PM'd me and I haven't replied, I'm sorry, but nothing came through. I promise I wasn't ignoring you. To anyone else who wants to get through for any reason, my e-mail is on profile page, so drop me a line and I'll get back to you asap!! Lyrics are from Madonna's 'Gone'. I disclaim!! Please read and review guys!**

**_Kimberley_ - Just for you, it's in this chapter. Althought 'Just Jack' isn't in Morgan's character, I've written it in for you **

**_Vera_ - Wow, thank you so very, very much for your reviews. They really do mean so much to me, as I aspire to be as good as you are. To know that someone I admire reads what I write, well it gives all good warm & fuzzy feelings lol. All hail Vera!**

**_HuntersAngelJacky_ - Thank you very much for your reviews. I really do appreciate you taking the time to post your thoughts on what I've written. I do love the idea of Morgan and Jeff...but I have a horrible knack of playing with characters emotions...I'm just plain mean**

**_shannygoat_ - My fellow _slash'er_. Thank you for your reviews. You know I'm loving your story, and thank you for sticking with me. You give me inspiration and the desire to update this story, so thank you very much. Plus Randy keeps me laughing!!**

**_sarahblue23 & pinkstarsx_ - Thank you for your reviews, and welcome to the family. I'm very glad you like the story. Stick with me, and I hope you enjoy what I've written.**

**_The Queen_ - As ever, I'm in your debt! Welcome back.**

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Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, Morgan sighed. Leaning closer to the microphone, his lips almost lovingly caressed the black mesh-like metal, as he spoke into it, to get the producers attention. The trio were stationed behind the glass before him, busily discussing the song they were trying to record. 

"Hey Nicky, could you turn the background up a little more please? Thank you." Morgan grinned at the balding man sat opposite only a few feet a way. Giving Morgan a thumbs up, his hands shuffled across the controls in front of him, balancing up the background with Morgan's own voice, increasing the output into the headphones resting on the singer's head.

Nicky had worked with on Morgan on his first album, and they had found they seemed to be on the same wavelength when it came to music. When it came to choosing the producers for his second album, Morgan had specifically requested to work with Nicky again. He just seemed to 'get' Morgan on an artistic level, more so than anyone else he had met. Nick had a knack of interpreting what the singer wanted, and giving it to him. There was no-one Morgan would trust more to be the guiding force in on this album.

"Any better?" Nicky's voice sounded tinny and distant, crackling into Morgan's headphones. Morgan nodded, returning the thumbs up, as the playback was at a better level for him to follow as he sang. "Okay, you ready to go again?" Morgan nodded, exhaling and drawing in breath. In his mind, he worked over the singing lessons he had taken for years, focusing to move his breath down out of his chest where it naturally gathered, and into his diaphragm, pushing his ribs outwards to draw more breath. The outcome would be a richer sound, one which Morgan could sustain for longer.

As the music began in his ears, Morgan leaned closer to the microphone, letting his voice reign free on the song he had written for this album. It was one of his personal favourites, the lyrics being personal to him on many levels. The backing melody was a mix of an acoustic guitar, with subtle influences of _electronica_ in the breaks between verses. The melody itself was simple but held that 'sing-a-long' quality that was difficult to create in a song. It either came, Morgan found, or it didn't. The producers agreed on its merits as a strong song, and that it could perhaps be a contender for a single. Morgan wasn't so sure if he would release it, perhaps preferring it to remain as an album track, but that decision could wait till a later date. Right now, he had to do what he did best, and that was giving his soulful voice to the music.

"_Selling out is not my thing. Walk away, I won't be broken again. I'm not, I'm not what you think.."_ Morgan released his hands from his pockets, raising them upwards as he continued. "_Dream away your life, someone else's dream…Nothing equals nothing." _Morgan let the music take him past a place of conscious thought, and the song continued to flow steadily from his lips. It was the part he loved best about singing, that it could just take him outside of himself, to a place where nothing mattered beyond what was inside, where you could simply 'feel'. _Letting go is not my thing, walk away, won't let it happen again. I'm not, I'm not very smart. Why should I be sad, for what I never had? Nothing equals nothing"_

Morgan's eyes closed, as he prepared to deliver what could be described as the chorus. _"Turn to stone, lose my faith. I'll be gone, before it happens."_ The background music faded away with a click, as the producers discussed between themselves on how the recording had gone. There was more of the song to come, but it was recorded a piece at a time. It was maddening sometimes, especially if Morgan's delivery had been off, and he would have to repeat the same verse about a thousand times to give Nicky what he wanted to hear. Still, Morgan thought he'd hit every note and his timing was down to perfection. But he wasn't the man in the both who would make the final decision. To give him his answer, Nicky spoke into his headset again.

"That was good Morgz, I think we've got that better than perfect. We'll move on in fifteen. There's someone here for you anyway. Take a break and we'll set up for the next verse." Nicky gave Morgan his thumbs up again, causing the British singer to chuckle. Grinning, he removed his heat set and placed it on the microphone stand. Snatching up his latte, Morgan brushed his hair back out of his face as he exited the recording booth.

Licking his lips, he expected to be greeted with his assistant Elsie, with the buffalo wings he had asked her to pick up. That was one of the US's hidden gems, Morgan found. He had never tasted them before he had toured America, but now he was hooked, fully intending to return home and open his own restaurant selling nothing but delicious buffalo wings. Morgan often found it best to not think about the calories, and simply allow them to find their happy way to his thighs. That would be his personal trainer's problem, after all.

Morgan was sorely disappointed in his anticipation of food however, as he was met with the last person he would have suspected. John Cena, dressed in an oversized hooded sweater dug his hand into his denim cut offs, a baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes, as if trying to appear inconspicuous. Noting he had been joined, John looked upwards, his steely blue eyes locking with the oceanic depths of Morgan's orbs. Obviously, he was less than thrilled at Cena being here. Shuffling his feet uncomfortably, John offered a weak smile at Morgan.

Simply nodding, Morgan pointed to an adjoining room, to which John followed him to as he led the way. With the door closing firmly behind them, Morgan dropped into one of the plush red couches, taking a long sip from his latte. Kicking his feet up onto the table before him, Morgan watched as John awkwardly took a seat opposite him, clasping and unclasping his hands on his lap. Sighing, he pulled his baseball cap off, sporting a newly shaven head which he ran his hands over.

"Hi." John offered as a way of greeting. He was unsure how Morgan would respond, considering their last meeting hadn't gone so well. He could only hope that he hadn't exhausted Morgan's patience too much, and he would be given the chance to say what he'd wanted to say.

"What are you doing here John?" Morgan's voice wasn't accusatory or harsh, it was simply a question as to John's presence at the recording studio. In truth, he was secretly glad that Cena was here. Ever since their mini-fight, Morgan had wanted to smooth things over. He hated fighting with friends, and it bugged him more than he liked not talking to John. But that didn't mean he was going to let him have it easy. He had legitimately pissed Morgan off, and he wasn't one to forgive or forget easily.

"Morgan, I owe you and apology," John began, "what I said…how I acted…I was a total dickhead and I'm sorry." John glanced up to gage Morgan's reaction.

Fighting back the amused smirk, Morgan tried to remain as impassive as possible. "Go on."

Sighing, John got up from his seat, taking to pacing around the small room. "It's just…what happened between me and you…it was wrong of me to do that…just to pounce on you and kiss your face off. And I got worried that you would think I was trying something on…which I wasn't…cos I'm not into guys and whatever. Not that that there's anything wrong with being into guys…but I just didn't want you to get the wrong impression of me. And when I saw you…I just…" John seemed to stop, pausing to consider what he was going to say.

"…I just freaked a little. My mouth ran away with me, and I was saying stuff I didn't mean, but I just couldn't stop it. But I don't think there's anything wrong with being gay, and I shouldn't have used the word I did. The truth is," John clarified, "is that I really like you Morgan." _More than you know._ "You're a funny guy, and really cool to hang with. There's no bullshit, you are who you are and just enjoy life. I really respect and admire that about you. It's why I like being around you so much. You're the most 'real' person I've met in years. "

John stopped, quickly crossing the room and sitting next to Morgan. "And I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose your friendship because of my own stupid fuckin' mouth. It means…you mean too much to me for that to happen. These past few days I've gone without talking to you…I've been fuckin' crazy. And what makes it worse is the fact it was my own doing. I'm just….I'm really sorry Morgan…"

Cena dipped his head, avoiding eye contact with Morgan. He had bared a lot of himself to Morgan. He only hoped Morgan wouldn't chew him out regardless. That clearly wasn't going to happen. He had managed to keep a straight face through the speech, but Morgan could contain it no longer. The laughter bubbled from his throat, causing John to look back up, a perplexed look on his face. "What's so funny?"

"You," Morgan managed through giggles. "You were talking so fast and not pausing to breathe…you looked so serious and your face went so red I thought it was going to explode. It was really funny."

Morgan continued to laugh as John rolled his eyes slightly, not appreciating the humour. "Oh."

"I'm sorry," Morgan breathed, resuming a straight face. "I shouldn't be laughing. Seriously, thank you for coming here to apologise. I'm sorry too, I was little over the top in what I said. I would never have thought any less of you just for taking a crack at me when you were drunk. It's nothing, water under the bridge and whatever other euphemism you want to insert here."

John's face formed a smile of his own, relieved that Morgan wasn't angry with him. "But I think we need to be clear here, okay? I'm gay John. I like guys, I have sex with men. I'm pretty much every stereotype you could imagine when if comes to homosexual men. I have an affinity for the colour pink, I own every Madonna album from '_The First Album_' through to _Confessions on a Dancefloor_, and I could tell the charting position of every song she has released, in order and what was on the single cover. And I most probably will go a little 'Just Jack' on your ass every once in a while just because I can. But that doesn't make me some raving queen that wants to bed every guy he sees. Don't assume I automatically want you just because you have a penis, alright? I like you, you're a great guy, but that's where it stops for me."

Morgan extended his hand forward for John to take in a handshake. "Are we cool?" John looked down at the hand in front of him. A smile curved his mouth, and instead he flung himself across the couch, crushing Morgan in a heartfelt bear hug. Morgan chuckled as the two hugged for moment longer, before breaking free.

"I really want to make it up to you," John added, grinning at his friend. "Tonight, if you're not doing anything with Jeff that is, I'd like to take you out to a club and just have a wild time like we did before. Just hang and have a few drinks and shit. You up for it?"

Truthfully, Morgan had plans to see Jeff tonight. But John looked so sincere, that he just couldn't say no to those big blue eyes shining at him. And anyway, it wasn't as if he and Jeff were totally serious yet, they'd only had one date, and Morgan was sure Jeff would understand him spending some time with John. Besides, Morgan would very much like the opportunity to hang with John. They hadn't spent that much time together recently, and it would be good to just fool around on a night out. Just two friends.

"Sure…as long as I get to pick the club." Morgan's deep ocean blue eyes challenged John to try and argue the point. A million and one different scenarios entered Morgan's head. He could have some fun with this. That is, if he were a mean person. He was pretty sure there was a drag club nearby, not to mention several bars aimed for hay clientele. Morgan could be pretty devious, if he chose to.

"Alright," John surprisingly agreed, "I'll stop by room at 7.30, and we'll go from there. I'm glad we're cool man." John grinned, pulling Morgan into another hug. For some reason, it seemed all John could do was _not _touch Morgan. John really didn't know why, but he wanted…no…needed physical contact with Morgan. Maybe it was John being a guy, needing to express his gratitude and happiness at the continued friendship physically. Or did John find it necessary to express himself differently when he was around Morgan.

Whatever the reason, with Morgan in his arms, John couldn't help but feel drowned in his scent. It was light and heady, making him feel giddy. It was the kind of gentle scent that you could smell when laying on your back in a field of grass, looking up at the springtime sky. Just feeling content and complete with yourself and the world around you. And the more John could smell, the more he wanted it.

And he wasn't the only one. Morgan had lied slightly when he had been talking to John earlier. In truth, he was automatically attracted to men with larger frames, a description John certainly fitted. Crushed against the wrestler's massive and amazingly chiselled chest, Morgan couldn't help but lose his breath. Just the feeling of those strong, delicious arms wrapped around him, the thick neck just begging to be licked and grazed with wanting teeth. Morgan licked his lips, allowing his hands to travel the expanse of John's back, from his powerful shoulders to the dip of his lower back. As attracted as he was to John's body, Morgan still had some sense of preservation not to let his hands wander any further down than the lower back.

Although it seemed questionable if John would have stopped him. As if on some kind of autopilot, John felt his neck tilt, leaning his head to the side. Morgan felt John's breath clouding on his neck, sending his pulse soaring around his body, not realising just how close Cena's pouted moist lips were to devouring his neck totally. It was an electric feeling, spreading from John's heady senses, splintering his body to the point where it jolted a deep stirring between his legs. Not for the first time, John felt himself becoming very much aroused by contact with Morgan, a warm feeling that was both euphoric and terrifying at the same time.

_What was it with being close to this guy? How does he do this to me?_

Why did John react like he did? Was he really attracted to Morgan? No, he couldn't be - it wasn't possible. He had been with enough girls to know how much he loved women. And yet, something about Morgan was so irresistible that John couldn't deny the feelings he evoked. He couldn't describe the sensations even if he wanted to, but John knew they were there, and they were very real. Not wanting to find out why, John released his grip on Morgan, smiling a little more bashfully than he would have wanted. Giving Morgan a brief nod, John got up from his seat, thankful the loose folds of his denim shorts were doing a good job at covering his growing hardness.

Offering a final brief smile over his shoulder, John exited the room, leaving Morgan very much alone. As soon as he heard the door click shut, Morgan released the breath he realised he had been holding. Absent mindedly gripping the cup between his hands, Morgan's eyes travelled to the closed door, mentally following John's path. For an instant, all he wanted was to feel John's lips crushing his, giving up his mouth to every pleading stroke of John's tongue. Just to taste him…

Morgan's eyes flickered open immediately. A flush of red coloured his cheeks as Morgan felt the uncomfortable hardness tenting his jeans between his legs. Trying to shake off whatever it was that had just happened, Morgan couldn't help but wonder…

_What the hell was that about?_

Feelings of guilt washed over Morgan, as Jeff 's softly smiling face suddenly being the only thought in his mind. Reaching into his pocket, Morgan extracted his cell phone, flicking the clam-shell design open. He didn't know what he was doing, but found himself punching in the number that had become second nature to him by now.

Morgan held the receiver to his ear, chewing on his bottom lip. _What do I have to be nervous about? Nothing happened. I haven't done anything wrong. You just agreed to hang with John. Why are you getting so worked up about it? You haven't cheated on Jeff by think John's got a nice body. It's cool M, just breathe already…_

Despite his own assurances that everything was okay, that there was no reason to feel guilty or place blame for something that hadn't happened, Morgan wasn't sure how he was going to word his excuse for cancelling on Jeff. Could he say anything that wouldn't hurt Jeff's feelings? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to be cancelling on him, after all, they were still only just getting to know each other. This was an important time during a relationship, right? Or maybe it was a good idea to cancel. It couldn't be good to get too familiar too soon…could it?

"_Hey Jeff, just wanting to let you know I won't be hanging with you tonight as I'm going clubbing with a guy I may or may not have naughty feelings for…"_

Morgan blinked at the first excuse that came into his head. Well that clearly wasn't going to work, was it? Being so caught up in his own thoughts, it took Jeff Hardy's second, southern tinged '_Hello'_ to make Morgan realise he had picked up. Releasing a silent sight, Morgan prayed he would sound convincing, and not like he was hiding some great big secret from Jeff.

"Hey, it's me. Listen about tonight…can I take a rain check…?"


	9. Breathe On Me

**_A/N: Update. _Brand New Chapter. random note I've just caught up on the past two week on RAW. Did everyone see when Randy Orton spoofed HBK? Was it me, or did he look more like Christina Aguilera, with the leather chaps and booty shorts?? It was hillarious !!**

**I think FF is working, so I'm starting to get PM's and alerts. So feel free to PM me again guys! If you've e-mailed me and I haven't replied, I promise I'll will asap! **

**Thank you guys, for all your reviews. They really inspired me to get this chapter out. I hope you guys enjoy what I've written. As ever, I would appreciate it if you guys would read and review. I disclaim! Lyrics are from Madonna's 'Like a Virgin' & Britney Spears' 'Breathe On Me', neither of which I have permission to use, hence why I DISCLAIM!!**

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John grinned from his seat, taking another deep drink from his beer, letting the cool liquid quell the chuckle that was bubbling in the back of his throat. Sprawled out on the faded red leather couch, he couldn't help but chuckle softly, enjoying his view from where he was positioned. Across the crowded club, making his way to the stage to a gale of applause for the clubbers, was a blushing Morgan Lee. 

The pair had spent the evening together as had been suggested earlier, with Morgan being the one choosing their destinations for the night.

They had started out in a restaurant, where Morgan have devoured a plate of Buffalo wings entirely, saying he found heaven in a form of food. Moving on to a nightclub, they had first hit a relatively new club, known as '_Honey_'. The music was more urban in influence, and Morgan seemed right at home on the dance floor, moving his body to the beat, to the appreciation of many women. John had joined him every once in a while, thankfully with the company of several beautiful women so he didn't create a spectacle of himself.

Much to John's surprise, where he went people recognised him as the WWE Champion, and he didn't lack for attention from guys wanting to shake his hand, to women offering all kinds of unmentionable activities.

Morgan, however, went relatively unnoticed. People didn't seem to recognise him, and in fact, his generic appearance fitted in with the scene, so John couldn't see why anyone would. After all, Morgan wasn't a 6ft walking mountain of muscle which would stand out no matter what kind of crowd you were in. A few recognised the singer, but they rarely ventured forward. And Morgan seemed to prefer it that way. He was able to enjoy himself, without having to worry about the pressures of entertaining and being gracious towards fans.

Once done with _Honey, _they moved onto H20, a distinctly gay bar. John could honestly say, not even in the body building profession, that he had never seen that many men in hot pants. He found himself transfixed at how they could cram their units into the tight, sometimes vinyl garments, and make sure nothing popped out of place. John sound began readjusting himself at the very sight, wondering how the pain was bearable for the other men. Although, he supposed he could see why they were wearing them. After all, they left nothing at all to the imagination. Everything was all on display for anyone and everyone to see.

Cena wasn't so much uncomfortable as he wasn't used to the volume of attention he was receiving. Of course he had been around gay men before, of course they had tried it on with him. But he had never felt like a piece of meat before. He was constantly being undressed by predatory gazes, with no-one giving a second thought to groping his buttocks. The braver went for his chest, and the suicidal went for his genitals. Whilst he had first resisted such blatant feel-ups, after an hour John simply gave him and allowed himself to be touched. It was a lot less work that way, even if he did feel slightly used and abused by a group of men he had never met. If nothing else, he would recommend the place to Orton. _He'd have a fucking field day._

Morgan got recognised a lot more in this bar than before. It ranged from screaming adorations to cold looks and bitchy '_I am so out of your league' _sneers from the random members of the crowd. John couldn't understand the treatment Morgan was receiving, but the singer assured him it was par for the course in the gay community. Morgan explained gay men in groups of more than two was a dangerous thing. It always descended into backbiting, evil bitching fests, with everyone trying to put everyone else down.

That, or fuck them senseless.

And as a celebrity and 'poster boy' of a young adolescent homosexual, he just tended to attract it more than others perhaps would. This didn't ease John's concerns enough, however, and he spent the remainder of their time in that club policing just who got close to Morgan, feeling more like a bodyguard that a friend on a night out.

It seemed even Morgan was getting a bit tired of the DJ constantly spinning the divas, and suggested they moved on, leading them to the club they were currently in. It was one of the new breed of bars appearing across the world. It wasn't marketed as a gay bar, but it attracted a steady base of gay and straight revellers, albeit ones which didn't openly deride each other. Morgan had been recognised immediately, and thus had been ushered to the VIP area bringing John along for the celebrity ride.

It seemed tonight was Karaoke night in _'Envy' _with a good number of people getting up to give a song or two. The pair had laughed themselves hoarse through someone's rendition of 'Nobody Does it Better', and had agreed Elvis would turn in his grave if he could hear the version of 'Suspicious Minds' that someone had just warbled. All in all, it was an amusing time.

The promoters, it seemed, wanted to capitalise on Morgan's presence in the club, and so got the audience behind them in welcoming Morgan to the stage to give them a number. The British singer hadn't wanted to get up to perform, but it seemed with the spotlight hanging over him and the crowd cheering wildly, he didn't really have a choice in the matter. He took to the stage, flicking through the catalogue of songs he could perform. Selecting one, he grinned across the dance floor at John, who was relaxing back into his seat, enjoying his next beer in anticipation of the song.

The song was recognisable the world over, with the opening chords that formed a repetitive structure that continued on for the length of the song. The crowd gathering in front of the stage, exploded in sustained cheers as each in turn recognised the song for what it was. Perhaps, it was an obvious choice, but everyone looked past the stereotype to join in on the chorus, singing every word along with Morgan.

"_I made it through the wilderness, somehow I made it through. Didn't know how lost I was, until I found you…" _Getting up from his seat, John released an ear-piercing whistle, cheering Morgan on from a cross the club. He was sure his friends would have a lot to say if they could see him right now, but hell - what was wrong in getting into the spirit of things? Everyone else seemed to be having an awesome time, why couldn't John join in? "_I was beat…incomplete. I'd been had, I was sad and blue. But you made me feel…yeah, you made me feel…Shiny and new…"_

Despite himself, John could resist belting the chorus along with everyone else, albeit loudly and considerably off key. _"Like a Virgin…Touched for the very first time. Like a Virgin, when your heart beats, next to mine…"_

As if becoming aware of himself, John noted he had somehow managed to stand on top of the couch, and was singing every word as though it was second nature to him. _Since when do I know 'Like a Virgin?' What the hell am I doing?_ Despite himself, John couldn't help but feel very self conscious. What the hell was he doing, stood on a chair in a part-time fag joint screaming along to what could be argued as one of the biggest gay anthems that existed? This wasn't John Cena. The Dr. of Thuganomics would never pull a stunt like this.

And yet, Morgan's confident and reassuring smile kept him there. It was mesmerising. It was like he was alone in the club, Morgan singing to him and him alone. As if the very words of the song were written for the two of them. It made sense to John, it felt right in a way nothing ever had before in his life. _"Gonna give you all my love, boy. My fear is fading fast. Been saving it all for you, 'cause only love can last…" _Did Morgan really mean that? Did he really have feelings for John? "_You're so fine and you're mine. Make me strong, yeah you make me bold. Oh your love thawed out, yeah, your love thawed out…what was scared and cold…"_

It was like Morgan's oceanic blue gaze pierced through him straight into his very soul. That glint in his eyes, the knowing smile blushing those beautiful lips. John wanted Morgan to be singing for him, just to him and no-one else.

How could something that every part of John's mind told him was wrong, feel so right? It was like feeling on a basic, primal level. It wasn't as complicated as a complete thought. John wasn't 'thinking' about feeling. He was just _feeling_. It was terrifying. It was wrong. John shouldn't be feeling this. He was still hung up on Ashley. He had loved that girl with everything he had. There was no way he could have real feelings for anyone else right now, boy or girl.

_But how could he deny the attraction to Morgan?_ It was there, and it was powerful. John had fought it, convinced himself it didn't exist. But it had still refused to leave him alone. It was different to what he felt with Ashley. John wanted Ashley…but he needed Morgan. How did life become so complicated? How could you separate need from want? How could John Cena have feelings for a man?

Lost in his own thoughts, John didn't notice Morgan until he bounded up to him, giggling and smiling broadly. "How awesome was that? It was awesome right?" Morgan giggled freely, slinging his arm around John's shoulder as far as he could considering the muscle width.

"It was…really good." John swallowed. Struggling to find words. However wrong he felt at wanting Morgan, it was taking every part of his will not to just shove him up against the wall and devour him. And from the flicker of lust in Morgan's eyes, John knew he wasn't alone in feeling this. If he felt for Morgan, clearly there was something coming from Morgan. There had to be.

And there was. Riding on an emotional high, Morgan's blood was already pounding around his body, an effect which was normally reserved for John Cena. It hadn't dawned on Morgan until today, that every time he was close to John, be it physically or mentally his body instinctively reacted.

His pulse quickened, his breath becoming more laboured than before. Morgan knew it was a mistake to allow himself to develop an attraction to John. Morgan was gay, John was straight. It would never work. But he would be damned if he could help it. It wasn't a conscious decision he made. It just was, as brilliant and urgent as the rising sun, breaking through every adversity that could stand in its way to fill with light as far as one could see. That was how Morgan felt. Everything about John intoxicated him to point where it consumed him. If he didn't do something soon, Morgan felt it might very well push him over the edge.

'_Oh, it's so hot, and I need some air. And boy, don't stop 'cause I'm halfway there. It's not complicated, we're just syncopated. We can read each other's minds. One love united, two bodies synchronising…'_

"Dance with me." John's voice came in a breathy whisper, a growl of a command which caused a deep stirring in Morgan, exciting him. Not waiting for an answer, John took Morgan's hand in his own, guiding him through the throbbing crowd of dancers as the music pumped it's sexually hypnotic beat. They pushed their way forward to the centre of the crowd, entangled in a mix of lust and pounding electronic rhythms. John stopped suddenly, turning to face Morgan.

With one hand, he gripped Morgan's waist, spinning him 180 degrees so his front was pressed against Morgan's back. Making sure he was in place, John began to move against Morgan's body. It was a slow, sensual grinding action. Everything John had ever known screamed at him to stop. But it wasn't enough. Nothing, it now seemed could dampen the flame of desire that was burning. John Cena wanted Morgan Lee. And he would get him.

'_Don't even need to touch me, baby, just…Breathe on me, Oh Baby just, Breathe On Me  
We don't need to touch, just…Breathe, oh, yeah'_

Morgan responded in the only way he knew how. He easily matched the flow of John's movements behind him, grinding his own hips against John's crotch. As could be expected, the arousal bubbling beneath the surface sparked into flame inside John. It wasn't long before Morgan could feel an insistent hardness pushing against his lower back, grinding and thrusting its way against him, desperate to be a part of him.

If Morgan had been thinking clearly, he would have stopped this insanity right here and now. Maybe it was the elation…maybe it was the music…or maybe it was the fact that Morgan wanted John. He didn't see the point in denying it anymore. Morgan wanted to feel John Cena. Every part, from his intense brooding soul, to the mountain of his muscled and chiselled body.

John seemed to feel the same, as his hands gripped at Morgan's waist, thrusting against him. It was verging on dry-humping, but neither seemed to care. They only craved more.

'_Oh, this is way beyond the physical. Tonight, my senses don't make sense at all. Our imagination, taking us to places, we have never been before. Take me in, let it out  
Don't even need to touch me, baby just Breathe On Me…'_

As if pre-empting what the other wanted, Morgan leaned his head back to rest against John's chest, as John leant his head forward. With the angle of Morgan's head, their faces were mere inches away from each other, their breath pooling across each other's face. John studied Morgan's hazed eyes, as if searching for something. There was no resistance. Only need. One final cry echoed in John's mind, to just think about what he was doing, to stop before he did something he could never take back. But it was too late. The feeling of Morgan's breath caressing his cheeks pushed him the final inch in oblivion.

John lowered his head the final centimetre, meeting Morgan's lips in softly melting kiss. They melded together for a second, feeling the caress of each others' lips against their own. Morgan twisted in John's arms, so they were face to face, never once breaking the union of their lips as he did so. Feeling his eyes drift closed, John moved his lips gently, running his moist tongue over Morgan's plump bottom lip, revelling in the sweet taste filling his mouth. He gave the same treatment to the top lip, feather light licks, causing Morgan to stifle a groan.

But John wasn't done. His tongue now glided along the groove between the two lips, softly pleading to gain entrance to Morgan's mouth. The singer obliged, parting his lips in a groan, caused by feeling John's hand slip from his waist to grip the round of one of his buttocks. John explored the inside of Morgan's mouth, caressing every inch, tasting and teasing until Morgan thought he was going cry out. Instead, it fuelled Morgan further, and their tongues met in a sensuous twirl of desire. John felt himself grow to full hardness, his baggy denim cut offs suddenly feeling tighter than they had ever been. Feeling curiously self-conscious, Cena arched his back, trying to keep the erection away from Morgan.

The singer groaned in mild annoyance, thrusting his own hips forward. He wanted to feel John's hardness against him, to revel in his arousal. John could only oblige, pressing his hips against Morgan's, their physical expressions of lust pushed firmly together in a painfully erotic grind.

Throwing caution to the wind, Morgan allowed his hands to glide up the length of John's arms, entangled them around the back of his neck, as their kiss deepened. John felt like he was tasting every part of Morgan, and could only ever want more. His hands each gripped one of Morgan's firm buttocks, kneading the flesh, vigorously arousing Morgan.

As their tongues continued to twirl for supremacy, John felt himself go light-headed, not just from the explosive kiss, but the fact he hadn't taken a breath for almost two minutes. Reluctantly pulling back, his face flooded with colour as he sucked oxygen into his lungs. Opening his eyes, he registered Morgan's plump lips, swollen from the kiss. Trying to catch his own breath, Morgan rested himself against John for support, a heady and somewhat dazed expression covering his features.

Running his finger tips through the length of his hair, John rested his own head against Morgan's. As he spoke, his lips teased at Morgan's, connecting as he formed words. "I want you to come back to my hotel room with me…" Holding his gaze, John wondered how Morgan would react. It was one thing to give in to a kiss, but now that moment had been broken, would he still feel the same? Would Morgan now shy away and try and down-play what had happened? Much to John's relief, Morgan gripped his hand in his own, leading him towards the exit of the club.

Maybe they would both regret this in the morning. But right now, they both wanted each other. Hadn't they done enough running around each other? Why fight something you wanted so much? They both had enough to lose to make them think twice, but they wouldn't give in. They had done too much thinking already. This wasn't a time to think. It was a time to feel.

"_Breathe on me, Baby just, breathe on me. We don't need to touch, just Breathe On Me…"_


	10. Two Become One

**_A/N : _Update. New Chapter for your naughty enjoyment. That's right, I said naughty.**

**_This Chapter contains Strong Sexual Content_.**

**If two guys getting hot and heavy doesn't interest you, go ahead and skip this one. I hope you guys enjoy it. It's my second 'full' sex scene, so I'm anxious to hear what you guys make of it. Your reviews, as ever, have been fantastic and inspiring, so I want to say a big thank you to you all for reading and reviewing. It really means a lot to me.**

**For those of you that have PM'd me to read your stories or give opinions on your work, I promise I will read and get back to you as soon as I possibly can. Things are a bit hectic at the moment, but I will read a soon as I can.**

**But, as a thought, what I think of your story shouldn't matter. If I don't like a story, it doesn't mean it isn't an amzing piece of fiction, it just that it's not something I would read. Write for yourselves, not for popular approval. **

**Thanks to the guiding influence of the great 'Queen of Kaos' I've found that the more I write for myself, and write what I want to read, the more positive reviews I get for my stories. If you write because you want to, people will read and review no matter what. - Insert cheesy _'Field of Dreams'_ paraphrase here- "If you write it...they will review..."**

**That being said, please Read and Review guys. I disclaim!!**

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There was nothing sensuous about it. It could only ever be described as deep, aching desire, the kind that ruled your thoughts, gave fire to the actions you never thought you could perform. It wasn't a case of wanting something. It was deeper, on a more commanding and primal level of consciousness. You needed it. It consumed you, to the point where you wished it go away…and least then you would know some kind of peace. Even if it meant losing what you needed the most.

And that was something John just couldn't do.

From the tips of his fingers, to the heel of his palm, he felt Morgan. The sensation of skin against skin guided him, nothing could register truthfully to those big, steely blue eyes. And yet, they hungrily feasted over Morgan, drinking in the sigh of his flushed cheeks and pouted lips. Love and lust seemed to intertwine, the line between the two becoming less clear. What did it matter anyway? Didn't both end up at the same conclusion? A physical expression of the feelings that burned within?

Who honestly cared? John certainly didn't.

Safe inside the confines of his hotel room, John explored Morgan's swimmer's physique, delighting in the feeling of the contours of Morgan's chest, moving down to the grooves that made up his abs. He certainly didn't have the muscle mass of John, but Morgan's body was easily the most arousing sight he had ever seen. With strong, careful motions, Cena removed Morgan's long-sleeved top, exposing the softly tanned to the air. Pushing him back against the wall, John allowed his hands to feel Morgan further, sliding them over his stomach and around his hips, clawing their way up his back.

Their lips met in a furious slow-dance of desire. John moaned into Morgan's mouth, exploring it with all his worth, as Morgan greedily sucked on the invading tongue. Never one to be truly passive, Morgan allowed his own hands to grip John's shirt, ripping it free of the chiselled body. An explosion of buttons danced anywhere, not that Morgan noticed. His hand attacked John's chest, grazing his nails over the broad chest muscles, kneading the area with his hands.

Breaking free of the kiss, Morgan dipped his head lower, taking one of John's nipples into his mouth. Swirling his tongue, Morgan easily brought the soft nub of flush out to stand erect away from its bed of muscle. Morgan gave the other nipple just as much attention, alternating from sucking gently to worrying with his teeth. John's breath caught in gasps, amazed at the sensations Morgan was commanding in his body, without even touching his more sensitive organ. But it would seem all good things would come to those who wait.

Morgan's searing mouth blazed a trail of kissed between the groove of his pectorals, over the hard abdomen. His tongue quickly glided just below the navel, as Morgan hooked his thumbs onto the belt loop of John's belt. Tilting his head back, Morgan locked into a hypnotic, intensely erotic staring contest with John, releasing one had to firmly massage up and down over the growing hardness in John's denim cut offs. John's vision seem to flicker, as the continuous ache of his erection begged to be relieved. As Morgan unbuttoned his shorts, John felt himself pant, a mixture of desire an anticipation.

His cut-offs were around his ankles and off his feet without any resistance. The throbbing member urged to life by Morgan's lips tented upwards from his body like a rod, standing proud in the tight confines of his white boxer shorts. Morgan gripped him through the thin material, squeezing carefully enough to elicit a drawn-out moan from John. The WWE Champion had no choice but to brace himself against the wall, as he was certain he would collapse from the sheer blades of pleasure cutting through his body without mercy.

Cooler air swept over John's more intimate areas, as Morgan eased his underwear down to his ankles and over his feet, leaving John standing naked. Morgan took a second to take in the sight before him. John's physique was amazing, from his broad shoulders to the thick thigh muscles. Best of all, was the engorged length of flesh, standing rock solid from between John's legs.

Easing to his knees, Morgan gripped the base of the shaft in his hand, before leaning his head closer. John moaned without restraint as he felt Morgan's mouth over the globes of flesh hanging between his legs. Morgan took each one into his mouth, sucking with enough effort not to cause him pain, but enough to make John see stars. As his lips continued the massaging action, Morgan's hand gripped tighter on the hardened shaft, making long fluid stoking motions from the base to the very tip.

This simple motion forced John to grit his teeth against the teasing pleasure. It was enough to cause sensation, but so much as to give relief to the throbbing hardness which was his main concern.

It seemed Morgan was intent on taking his time. Pulling his head back, Morgan licked his lips, his eyes hungrily grazing on the prospect of John's erection. Without a second thought, he parted his lips, accepting the length into his burning mouth. John was a amazed as he had never seen anyone manage to swallow that much of his length before. It was his last conscious thought, before Morgan pulled his head back, increasing the suction as his lips travelled back up the length, the tip of his tongue gliding along the base of the shaft to flick over the head.

Feeling his legs buckle, John let one hand stray into the mass of Morgan's hair, tangling the tips into the dirt blonde waves. The tips of his fingers massaged the nape of Morgan's neck, but never caused enough pressure to force Morgan's head up and down. It was a simple gesture, but it made Morgan smile. John was aggressive, but not to the point of being forceful. Morgan continued moving his mouth up and down the hardened shaft, alternating between relaxing the back of his throat to swallow the length and making shorter movements, sucking on the engorged head.

Once more, Morgan gripped his hand around the base of the erection, making tight stroking motions as his mouth concentrated on the head. Swirling saliva around his mouth and over the head, Morgan hummed softly, sending euphoric vibrations into John's body. He gasped, the breath being forced from his lungs to the point of collapse.

Crouching forward, John squeezed his eyes shut. It was more than he could take. From the pit of his stomach he could feel his climax building. A few seconds more of the combined stroking and sucking and he would explode right here and now. Grabbing Morgan's shoulders, he pulled him back to his feet. With a rough grasp he lifted the smaller man off his feet. Spinning on his heel, he collapsed on top of Morgan, crushing his body against the mattress of the waiting bed. Nudging Morgan thighs apart, John leaned in between the parted legs, burning his lips over Morgan's throat, and down over his torso. Morgan struggled against the sensation, but John put a stop it with a rueful smile, pinning his hands down on either side of him. Swirling his tongue up and over Morgan's flat stomach, he revelled in seeing the singer groaned and buck his hips at the feeling. It seemed this was a sensitive spot for him, which John acted on.

Using it to his advantage, the Champ brushed kisses over Morgan's lower abdomen, paying attention to his exposed hips appearing from the top of his jeans.

Focusing on the belt buckle, John carefully loosened it, before pulling it cleanly off Morgan. Next, his hands fumbled with the buttons fastening the jeans. One by one, he undid the metallic discs, never taking his eyes away from Morgan's ocean blue depths. As tantalisingly as he could, he eased the jeans down off Morgan's legs, exposing a pair of tight black boxer briefs. It seemed Morgan was just as aroused as John, his hardness obvious through the material of his underwear. Taking a silent breath of courage, he gripped the designer-autographed hem, and eased them down off Morgan's hips.

This was it. This was the moment that John had been dreading. Taking the plunge to be with another guy was one thing. But being confronted with another man and his 'parts'…well John really had no clue what to do. Morgan seemed to sense this. Just as he opened his mouth to tell Cena that it was okay, he didn't have to do anything he wasn't ready for, John acted.

Lowering his head, John decided to wing it. Taking the shaft in his hand, he landed a kiss on the tip. Parting his lips softly, he took the head into his mouth, sucking gently. Morgan's hips involuntarily bucked, pushing his erection further into John's mouth. Fighting down his gag reflex, John did his best to relax his throat. He'd been on the receiving end of blowjobs for years. _How hard could it be?_

Impossible it seemed. John had never appreciated just how much work was involved. There was placing your teeth in the right position so you didn't skin the guy's manhood, the tightening of jaw with the stress of performing suction whilst holding your teeth back, not to mention moving up and down and remembering to breath. It was definitely a job of work. But Cena was always up for a challenge. Getting into a steady rhythm, he cupped his shaft in his fist, drawing intense stroking motions, whilst sucking up and down the length as far as his inexperienced throat would allow. It seemed to be working, as Morgan's head thrashed from side to side, his voice coming out in hurried, incoherent gasps as John's lips pleasured him thoroughly.

"John…you need…oh fuck…you have to stop…or I-I'm gonna…"John grinned devilishly, removing his mouth from Morgan's erection, travelling up the glorious length of his naked body to his neck, somewhat proud of the effect he was having.

Taking Morgan lips against his own, the melted together in a slow mix, as John continued to stroke Morgan. Acting on instinct, Morgan kicked his leg over John's waist, drawing John's throbbing shaft closer to his exposed opening. Pulling back from Morgan's glorious mouth, John gently stroked his cheek, his eyes fixed on Morgan's.

"Are you sure?" It was big step, both realised, from them to go the whole way. Morgan seemed to consider it for a second, his deep blue eyes clouding over for a second. Chewing on his bottom lip, he slowly nodded, giving his consent for them to go further.

"I want to." That was all John needed to hear. Reaching over Morgan, his hand fumbled in the bedside draw, extracting a silver packet and clear plastic bottle of lubrication. Tearing the foil, John retrieved the condom, easing it down to sheath his thick shaft. Morgan beat him to the lubrication, squeezing the clear liquid onto the palms of his hands. Gripping John's shaft in both hands, Morgan stroked his palms up down the length, coating it thoroughly in the greasy fluid, causing John to release another low moan, sending chills through Morgan's body.

Pushing himself onto his back, Morgan altered the angle of his hips upwards slightly off the bed, raising his legs upwards in the air. John slid into the inviting gap between his thighs. Positioning himself against Morgan's entrance, he gave a look of reassurance, taking Morgan's hand in his own.

Interlocking their fingers, John smiled softly. "I'll go slow. Just tell me when to stop, okay?" Morgan nodded quickly, taking deep breaths to prepare himself for the invasion into his body. Carefully, John pushed himself forward, meeting the resistance he readily expected. With a little extra force, he eased himself past the cocooned ring of tight muscle at Morgan's entrance.

The singer's eyes screwed shut, gritting his teeth as he felt the blunt heat pushing past his sensitive nerve endings, further inside his body which tightened, almost to the point of pain. This sensation was something he would never get used to, no matter how much sex he had. Morgan gripped John's hand tighter as he whimpered gently, causing John to slow down his journey inside Morgan, even though the sound sent his pulse ablaze.

John grunted slightly, feeling himself bury even deeper inside Morgan. He was so tight, it felt like a burning fist gripping his erection, pulling him even further. With one more push, John buried himself entirely into Morgan, eliciting a slight yelp from the singer. John winced at causing pain in his lover. With hesitation, he moved to pull himself back out again, but Morgan wouldn't allow it. Grabbing John's buttocks in his hands, he made sure he stayed where he was.

"I'm…okay…" Morgan muttered through breaths, "just give me a second to get used to you. You're fuckin' huge John."

John couldn't hel the smile touching his lips at Morgan's description of his manhood, but that still didn't alleviate his concerns. "I'm hurting you." John pointed out, more concerned with Morgan being in pain that feeling pleasure he was feeling from being inside him.

"That's kind of the point," Morgan chuckled, squeezing John's hip reassuringly. After all, didn't the say it was 50 pleasure, 50 pain? "Just take your time." John nodded, resting his weight on his knees. Hooking Morgan's legs over his shoulders, John started to grind his hips, pushing his hardness in and out of Morgan, causing the singer to groan and grab at Cena's delicious chest. Taking it as a sign to continue, John altered the angle of his hips. He pulled himself out of Morgan almost entirely, before thrusting back forward, eliciting moan after moan from Morgan, as his body welcomed John back inside. John grunted with effort, as the rhythm of moving in and out of Morgan was causing the singer's legs to shake in sheer ecstasy.

And John was no better off. Morgan's channel was tighter than a fist, and searingly hot. It was like feeling hot velvet squeezing his erection, sending spikes of pleasure through his body.

Feeling Morgan's body relax against him, the muscles becoming easy and pliant, John leaned down on top of his body, sucking at his neck, thrusting in and out in a delicious rhythm that sent Morgan wild. The altered angle of John's hips meant every thrust grazed against Morgan's prostrate, causing him to yell incoherent obscenities that would make anyone blush. Hell, if you were on the end of that much pleasure, you'd swear like a trooper too. Seeing the effect he was having on the singer, John once more wrapped his fist around Morgan's shaft, pumping his hand up and down at great, bringing him to an earth-shattering climax.

Over-stimulated was the only words to describe how Morgan felt. His orgasm gripped his body like a vice, hitting every nerve and sense he possessed. His voice changed from dirty talk to unintelligible screams of sheer ecstasy. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, Morgan grabbed onto John's ass cheeks as if his life depended on it. From the extension of his toes to every hair on his head, Morgan shattered as he released, sending wave after wave of thick fluid out of himself to a point where he thought he was never going to stop. It spilled over John's hands, shooting far enough to cover the WWE Champion's stomach.

Morgan's muscles tensed as he released, squeezing John into oblivion. Panting and groaning all at once, John pumped himself in and out of Morgan, gripping at the bed sheets, loosing his teeth against the soft flesh of Morgan's neck, seemingly desperate to taste Morgan wherever he could. His body tightened to the point of sheer pain, his stomach slick against of Morgan, bead of sweat trickling down over his chest and back. Liquid gold crashed through Cena's body, centring behind his erection, pushing ever further.

His climax mounted further, to a point where John just could not process the sensations he was feeling. His voice became a mixture of screams and groans as he exploded, emptying himself safely inside the sheath, wrapped inside Morgan's inviting warmth. His voice came as one long, continuous primal groan, his body shuddering at the sheer sensation.

Morgan, coming back to his senses, bucked his hips against John, his hands gliding up down the back of his thighs as he whispered into Cena's ear, allowing the Champ to ride out the last waves of pleasure from his release. Finally, John was free of his climax, settling into the warm after glow that came directly after, his breath patchy and harsh, billowing waves of heat against Morgan's neck. All the strenght in his arms left him, as he collapsed against Morgan. Not that he minded however as he pulled John's body closer against him, kissing his mouth in soft motions.

With he last of his strength, John pulled himself out of Morgan, carefully removing the used protection and discarding it to the side. Morgan rained kisses over John's neck and face, lapping at the thin sheet of sweat across his chest that gathered because of the exertion. John responded by wrapping his arms around Morgan's smaller form, pulling him closer to his body. His lips caressed Morgan's cheek and hair, intoxicated by his scent, nuzzling affectionately against his neck.

Both were exhausted, basking in the warmth of the moment after their love making. Their minds were fuzzy, senses dulled by pleasured sensation. Morgan's mind gave unresistingly to the opening arms of sleep, his head relaxing against John's hard body. John rested his hands over Morgan's body, watching his lover succumb to dreams. His own eyes felt heavy, begging to closed along side Morgan, to which there was no defence. He was exhausted, and Morgan's purring breath was comforting as it was sleep-inducing. The moment was perfect, and John couldn't ask for anymore.

A weak smile crossed John's lips, as he left one final kiss on Morgan's swollen lips. Both steely blue eyes faded behind his closed eyelids, as John gave in to his own dreams. Lost in the salvation of giving in to what he wanted, John realised that for the first time in so long…

John Cena was happy. And it was because of someone he could never of imagined giving himself to. In that sleep induced epiphany, John realised. He was in love with Morgan.


	11. A Really Bad Idea

**_A/N: _Update! New Chapter for your reading pleasure! Okay, so still very much loving the reviews! Thank you guys! It really means so much that you're sticking with this story, as I have a small neurosis over it :) Please read and review! I disclaim!**

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Could post orgasmic bliss last more than 6 hours? Could that feeling of wholeness, that everything was right with the world, that nothing could be better than lying in the arms of the one you love last longer that the few moments that followed your explosion? For John it could.

His slumber had been the most euphoric experience of his life. It felt like the greatest weight had been lifted free of his shoulders, as though the fog had been lifted from his eyes. Life, love and the world seemed new and something to cherish and enjoy. And it was all because John Cena had stopped fighting himself. He had stopped denying his feelings, and allowed himself just the briefest moment of happiness. Now all he could wonder was why it had taken him so long? What had he missed out on buy continually denying his heart? Whatever it maybe, he was more than determined to make up for lost time.

His eyes gently opened, parting to see the first rays or morning light spilling in through his curtained windows. From his bedside table, digital green numbers spelled out '5.03am', casting an ethereal glow in the room. Allowing his eyes to travel back to the bed, John couldn't help but smile at Morgan. The impression of his body was clear through the dark blue bed sheets, curled up to cuddle against John. Their legs were intertwined, with John's arm being slung around his shoulders. Morgan's chin was pressed against his chest, waves of dirty blonde hair spilling around his head and onto the pillow, as if they were a halo, encircling his beautiful features.

Gently, John reached his hand forward, and stroked the tip of his thumb over the pillow of Morgan's cheek. Leaning his head closer, John brushed his lips against the velvet soft mounds of Morgan's, causing the singer to stir slightly as he contentedly exhaled, a faint ghost of a smile on his lips. If John could read minds, he guessed Morgan was as content right now as he was. Unable to help himself, John allowed his hand to travel further down Morgan's body. The tips of fingers gently touched the flesh of his arm, before moving on over the flat of his stomach. With a single tip, John traced the faint out-line of the muscles in Morgan's stomach, creeping ever lower.

"You know…" Morgan softly drawled, eyes firmly closed, "if I'm asleep, this technically counts as indecent assault." From beneath the thick lashes, Morgan's hazy eyes emerged. Even when filled with clouded dreams and waking thoughts, the oceanic blue depths sparkled mischievously.

Grinning, John leant forward, resting his body on top of Morgan's, who responded by parting his legs slightly. Cupping Morgan's face in his hands, John rained gentle kisses across the singer's lips, before resting his forehead against Morgan's.

"Wow." John muttered into Morgan's mouth. It was the only word he could think of to describe their encounter from the night before. In one single evening, John had learned so much about himself. Everything that had been bubbling under the surface for months, but he had never allowed himself to feel, suddenly came to him, wrapped in the gentle arms of Morgan. He knew things weren't going to be easy. As comfortable as he was here in bed, there would be difficulties to deal with. And it seemed they were destined to begin sooner that John realised.

As Morgan's lips parted to give his own response to the evening they shared, a gentle knock at the door cut him off. Furrowing his brow, Morgan glanced at the door, wondering who on earth could possibly be wanting to see John at such a stupid time in the morning. He groaned as he felt John's weight leave him. It seemed the wrestling superstar was intent on answering the door, as once again, the same gentle rapping echoed into the room.

"Ignore it." Morgan protested, reaching a hand out for John to take.

With a rueful grin over his shoulder, John made a show of wrapping a bed sheet around his waist. The knot rested perilously low over his hips, causing Morgan to lick his bottom lip at the sight. "I can't," John admitted, "the last time I ignored an early morning knock at my door, it turned out to be Vince wanting to talk. I'll just be a second, I promise." Dashing back over to the bed, John planted a soft kiss on Morgan's lips, before trotting back over to the door. Gripping the door handle, he pulled the door open a crack, so that whoever it was couldn't see past his thick frame into the room.

Ashley looked awful. Dressed only in an oversized blue shirt, the colour of which hung down low over her shoulder, exposing the strap of a lacy black bra. Her hair was a mess, tangled and hanging around her hair like some comical vision of a 'Mad Professor'. Worst of all were her eyes. They had always been John's favourite features on Ashley, but not right now. They were swollen and red, obviously from crying. Her mascara streaked ugly black marks down over her cheeks, giving the appearance of a macabre clown. She quite honestly looked devastated.

"Ashley…" John stuttered, unable to believe his eyes. She was the last person he would have expected to see outside his door. Offering a quick glance over his shoulder to Morgan, he turned back to his ex-girlfriend, resting his weight against the door. "What…what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry," Ashley chocked, batting a single tear trembling down her cheek, "I…I didn't know where else to go. I…Chris and I…we broke up. It was awful…" Burying her face in her small hands, tears spilled down her cheeks in earnest, her body shaking with gentle sobs.

John felt a twinge in his chest, surprising him somewhat. Even after all this time, after what he had learned, she could still tug on his heart strings like no-one else. The senible part of his brain told him to tell her where to get off. What right did she have coming here looking for sympathy? But it seemed John's big heart would never be immune to the girl who had broken. Against his better judgement, he opened the door a little further, offering a soft - "Come here."

Ashley collapsed between his broad arms, her head finding the place on his chest it always used to. Anguish poured out of her, tears tumbling down her cheeks to soak into John's chest. He whispered soothingly into her hair, running his hands down her back as a way to comfort her. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, it hurt more than he would readily admit to see her crying. Just being this close to her, not to mention having her in his arms, stirred to live old feelings he had assured himself he had long gotten over.

"I'm sorry…" she managed, brushing back her hair from her face, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here." She made an effort to pull away from John, but he firmly held her close.

"I'm glad you did. I'd rather you be here with me than roaming the streets in that state." John offered a weak smile, aiding Ashley by tucking a wedge of her air behind her ear. His thumb gently brushed over her cheek, catching another tear before it descended any further. "What happened?"

Ashley seemed to tense up before she spoke. "We got into this huge fight," she admitted, sniffing softly. "It was my fault really. I told him some stuff that he really didn't want to hear…he said some hurtful things…and I just ended things."

"What did you say?" John didn't know why the words left his mouth. In truth, he really didn't want to know, and yet something had awoken inside him. She was confusing. Just the thought of her put John in such a spin, that he couldn't think straight. Now knowing that she was hurt, well there was that old 'boyfriend' feeling sparking to life inside. He just wanted to make it better.

"I told him…" Ashley chuckled a little, before raising her eyes to meet with John's. "I told him that I'd made a mistake in leaving you…that I still loved you. Kinda makes sene that he flipped out over it. He said I was a no good slut, and that I just used people. Well, we just shouted shit at each other until I told him it was over." She tried to smile again, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Oh." Was all John could manage. Why did God hate him so much? What had he done to deserve this? Just when his life was getting good again, when things were starting to make sense…when he was starting to feel something for someone else, why did she have to come back into his life? This wasn't right. He should just tell her to go and cry to someone else. Ashley had her chance, and she'd blown it.

If John felt this way, why couldn't he bring himself to say it?

"You mind if I come inside? Just to get out of the hallway. I probably look like a beast." she chuckled, wiping her hand arcoss her cheeks, smudging the mascara a little more. John's mouth hung open, stammering incoherent phrases. Things had just gone from bad to worse. Incredibly worse. Seemingly picking up on his unease, Ashley glanced over John's shoulder into the room. "Is there someone else in there with you?"

John felt the colour flush to his cheeks, an embarrassed smile touching his lips. "No…not exactly. Just give me a second? Rought night last night, y'know?" Ashley nodded, letting John step back inside the room. Flashing her one more smile, he gently closed the door with a soft lick.

Turning back to face into the room, he spotted Morgan on the edge of the bed, fastening his shoes. Slinging his denim jacket onto his shoulders, the singer avoided eye contact, brushing his hand back through his hair, trying to tame the unruely tangles.

"Morgan…where are you going?" John's voice sounded distant, but it was enough to grab Morgan's attention. His face was impassive, no real emotion being readable in his features. Tightening his jacket around himself, he made for the door.

How could I have been so stupid? How could Morgan have let his guard down so much to lead him into bed with John? What did Morgan think was going to be the outcome? That they would confess their love for each other? That they would become a couple? _Get real Morgan._ That was impossible. It would never work, and it was utter stupidity on Morgan's part to think that it would.

How could Morgan have let his guard down so much to lead him into bed with John? What did Morgan think was going to be the outcome? That they would confess their love for each other? That they would become a couple? That was impossible. It would never work, and it was utter stupidity on Morgan's part to think that it would. 

If anything, he wasn't mad at John, more at himself. It had been his own foolishness that had allowed things to get this far. He should have known better. He should have seen the warning signs and nipped the entire thing in the bud before it hadn't gotten to this. He'd been through this before, and there was no-way he would do it again.

Last night had been mistake of epic proportions. If things weren't complicated before, they were going to be now. But whatever would happen from here on out, there was no way Morgan would be made a fool of. If John thought he had Morgan where he wanted him, he was sorely mistaken. It was a mistake. That's all. A line had been crossed which shouldn't have been.

They came from two different worlds. Morgan's was across an entire ocean. John's, it seemed, was standing on his door step.

As he tried to pass, Cena grabbed his upper arm, turning him around to face him front on. "Morgan?" His steely blue eyes searched the oceanic pools of Morgan's, whose face remained impassive as ever.

"I should go." Dipping his face, Morgan made a move to free himself from John's grip, but the wrester wouldn't let him. There was no way he was letting Morgan walk out on him that easily, and definitely not like this.

"Wait, Morgan, just wait." John pleased, "I don't want to go thinking that…"

"It's okay John. Seriously. This was just a bad idea. And it's my fault. Just leave at that." Shrugging free of John's grip, Morgan moved towards the door. His had reached out to grip the handle, but John's larger palm pushed against the flat of the door, preventing him from opening it.

"Morgan…I don't understand," John's steely grey orbs looked genuinely confused. And as ever, words escaped him. "Last night…I thought that…that we…you can't just say that it was a bad idea…don't you feel anything…for me…?"

Morgan sighed, turning to face John face on. It was times like these that Morgan realised the true meaning of the phrase 'cruel to be kind'. "It was a really bad idea John. I'm in love Jeff, and I really don't want to lose him over this. This…this shouldn't have happened. Please, just let me go."

John's face darkened, as she stepped free of the door. Morgan pulled on the handle, swinging it open to reveal Ashley, looking very uncomfortable at being stood out in the hallway. Her eyes registered Morgan, and looked genuinely surprised. She glanced back from Morgan to John, and then back to Morgan, who by now had exited the room. Stepping out into the hallway, John watched Morgan break into a run as he fled down the corridor, turning a corner out of sight.

What had just happened? How could things have so rapidly changed? Had John really misread Morgan that badly? Did he really have no feelings for John? The feeling stung John to the core. He had really believed that Morgan in turn had feelings for him too. It had been the support he felt by taking that leap to be with Morgan, that the singer felt the same way too. Now, it was viewed pretty much as a mistake. It seemed, by Morgan's speedy exit, that he regretted what had happened between them.

Feeling his shoulders sag, John glanced back to Ashley who had walked into his room. Sighing, he followed her in, more than a little dejected. Somehow, things had been royally messed up. And he didn't know why.


	12. The Right Choice

**_A/N: _Update. So I see my decision didn't go down so well...what can I say? Love really isn't that easy, espeically in these circumstances. Plus, I kinda love toying with my character's emotions. I'm twisted. I know this, and I am seeking professional help for it. But gosh darn it, it's so much fun. But I love you guys so much for getting so into this story, I'm having so much writing it, and thank you for your vaguely threatening comments.**

**I've explained a little more of Morgan's background in this chapter. I'm not making him all _Mary Sue_ on you guys don't worry. It's not all 'woe is Morgan' but I just wanted you guys to understand a little better where he's coming from, and why he makes the decisions he makes. He's a great guy really...**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy. Please read and review! I'll offer chocolately incetives for those who do :)**

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Morgan was pouting so hard it hurt. With his bottom lip jutting so harshly from his jaw, how could it not be causing copious amounts of pain? He had been sat in the restaurant for the past thirty minutes feeling sorry for himself, his brain rolling over and over what had happened with John Cena. His first instinct was to run. It had always worked in the past, and it's not like he had real ties to the wrestling world. He was singer, not a wrestler for one thing. And British. This wasn't his home. Morgan could just hop and a plane and get out of this utter mess before things got any worse.

Of course, it could never be that simple. His issues with John aside, Morgan couldn't deny his feelings for Jeff. One night with John Cena couldn't take away the butterflies he felt whenever he saw Jeff. The North Carolina native's eyes were enough to send Morgan's stomach in spasms, his smile and oh-so-soft touch put him such a glorious spin that Morgan thought he would never come down. And they haven't even been slept together yet. If it was possible to die from pleasure, Morgan easily assumed he would in the arms of Jeff.

Things were progressing slowly between them, but Morgan enjoyed the fact their passion for one another was on a slow burner, maturing to the point where neither could contain it anymore. It was just nice not to have to worry about putting out, which would just be assurance that your prospective boyfriend wouldn't be eyeing up their next partner in less than 24 hours. And even that wasn't a definite. If nothing else, with things moving at a gentle pace, Morgan wouldn't rush into anything stupid.

_Like going to bed with someone and regretting it the next morning. A little late for that genius. _Rolling his eyes at the obvious irony, Morgan slouched further down into his chair. With his bottom lip seemingly wanting to detach itself from his face, his hand settled for pushing the spaghetti mounded on his plate around in soft circular motions, until it had formed some kind of crater towards the centre.

From across the table, Jeff rested his chin on his locked hands, both green eyes watching Morgan curiously. He hadn't said more than two words in the past twenty minutes, something which was completely out of his character. Morgan could talk to anyone. He was so warm and friendly to anyone he met, it was impossible not to get into conversation with him. But not tonight it seemed. As much as Jeff wanted to make whatever was wrong better, he was still testing his boundaries with Morgan. The last thing he wanted was to stumble into somewhere he wasn't welcome. If Morgan had a problem he needed help with, he would either chose to confide in Jeff or he wouldn't. Nothing could change that.

_Unless he doesn't feel he can_, Jeff reasoned with himself. _Maybe he needs to encouragement to open up. But what if that makes him angry, you poking your nose into his personal life. Would that makes things worse. _Jeff rolled his own eyes. It was a minefield it seemed, trying to figure out someone in a relatively new relationship. Taking a sip from his glass of red wine, Jeff extended his hand across the table, interlocking his fingers into Morgan's.

Glancing up at the contact, Morgan smiled weakly. "Sorry, I guess I was somewhere else. I'm not much company tonight am I?" Morgan cast his eyes downwards, his smile hinting at a sorrow buried somewhere deep beneath the surface. Getting up from his seat, Jeff crossed around the table, to kneel down next to Morgan.

His voice was a desperate whisper, sending chills down Morgan's spine. "Tell me what's wrong." The green orbs pleaded with Morgan to let Jeff make it better. Just the intense scrutiny he was under caused the back's of Morgan's eyes to sting with tears. How could he tell Jeff what was wrong? _I slept with John Cena and now I regret it. _It would go down about as well as a lead balloon, and probably break Jeff's heart along the way.

How could Morgan have done that to Jeff? What was he thinking by climbing into bed with John Cena? _You were thinking of yourself Morgan, as usual. You don't care who you hurt along the way, and this case it happens to be the one guy you so don't deserve_. Wincing at his own criticism, Morgan could only offer a gentle shrug as a way of answer to Jeff.

Jeff realised that he wasn't going to get an answer, and it would be more than foolish to press the issue. Consoling himself with the fact that Morgan would open up when he ready, he leant forward, melting his lips against Morgan's in a soft kiss. The act threatened to reduce Morgan to tears, but he managed to hold it together.

Returning to his seat, Jeff his fork and began twisting the creamy white strands of pasta around it. "So, I have a week and a half off coming up," he began, eyes fixed on Morgan's, "I was thinking maybe I'd spend it with you, if that's alright I mean. I wouldn't want to impose…"

Morgan chuckled at the sheepish look on Jeff's face. "Why would you be imposing? I'd love you to come out on the road with me. When is your time off?" Gripping his glass, Morgan drained it of the remnants of diet soda. Maybe this was exactly what he would need. Spending some time with Jeff, away from the hustle of the wrestling industry could give him some a clearer perspective on things.

"The week beginning the 30th." Jeff recounted from memory, visibly counting the days in his head, so much so that he missed Morgan's alarmed expression. That had to be the worst timing in the history of bad organisation. Morgan had plans for the first few days of that week, one which Jeff couldn't be a part of. If things could get any worse, Morgan almost wanted to dare them to do so, because he didn't see how they could.

"That's not good for you," Jeff noted by Morgan's obvious silence, "that's cool. We can hook up another time." A little crestfallen, Jeff resumed scooping up the pasta frim his dish, spilling a little onto the table because of his urgency to divert attention away from his reddening face.

"It's not that," Morgan finally assured, finding words to voice his actions, "it's just…I'm supposed to be meeting up with my brother that week…and…" Morgan stopped mid sentence, not sure how to finish his reasoning without sounding like a head case. Jeff finished it for him however, having the total wrong impression.

"…and you don't want him to meet me. That's no problem Morgan. I don't want you to feel you have to do something that you don't want to." Jeff offered a smile. In truth, he didn't want to push Morgan, or feel uncomfortable at all. Too much pressure too soon could damage what they had together, and Jeff would avoid that all costs.

"No, it's not that either," Morgan sighed, his shutting briefly as he realised Jeff was completel misuderstanding where he was coming from. And why not? If Morgan wasn't honest with his reasons, there was no way Jeff couldn't get the wrong impression. "It's not that I don't want you to meet my brother. It's more that I'm not sure if he'd want to meet you."

At Jeff's puzzled look, Morgan continued before he could cut in with his own conclusions. "There is a really long story," Morgan pointed out, "and it's not one that I've really told anyone. So you'll have to bare with me in a few parts okay?" Jeff nodded his affirmation to remain silent as Morgan spoke.

The singer snatch Jeff's glass of wine, taking a long drink before replacing it on the table. "I'm really comfortable in my sexuality. I'm out and proud, here and queer so get over…and all the other cliches that come with it. I'm happy the way I am, and I wouldn't change anything about if for anyone. My family on the other hand…well they're not so pleased with my life choices."

Jeff's face remained impassive as he allowed Morgan to continue, his voice dropping to not much more than a whisper. "When I was sixteen, I was dating this really great guy. I know everyone says it when they're that age, but I honestly thought I'd met 'the one' y'know? I kept the whole thing a secret, as my family…well, they're not so open minded. Okay that's a lie, they're extremely vocal at how homosexuality is wrong, an abomination and a sin. All the usual Holy rhetoric bullshit. I could never have told them I was gay, not in a million years. The only person I ever had to confide in was my best friend Hailey. Well, we fell out. I don't remember what it was over, or why we argued in the first place, but we stopped speaking to one another."

Batting away a non-existant tear, Morgan forced himself to finish what he had started. His eyes shone with sadness at the memories he was calling to the surface. "She really hated me, and was determined to get her own back. On my birthday, I spent the weekend at with my boyfriend in this really expensive hotel. I'm sure I don't need to explain what we were doing there all weekend. Well, Hailey heard of where we had gone, and managed to get my parents to show up. How they got the key to the room, I still don't know, but they barged in on us, right in the middle of me 'celebrating' with my boyfriend."

Morgan stopped to gather himself for a second, holding back the sobs that threatened to break forth. "My Dad…he pretty much went insane. He punched my boyfriend…broke his nose even. He dragged me back home…and he hurled the most horrible abuse at me, right in front of my mother and my brothers. He said I was no son of his, that none of his boys could ever be a filthily faggot. My brothers looked at me like I was the scum of the earth…" Morgan stopped as if in disbelief at his own words

"…and all my mother could do was just…cry. She just sat in the corner, bawling her eyes out, asking where she had gone wrong. He…uh…my Dad that is…he hit me a couple of times…and threw me out of the house. My boyfriend didn't want to know me after that, and Hailey had made sure all my friends had heard of what had happened. Living in a small town…I guess I never realised how quickly people could turn against you."

"Anyway, I caught the first train to London. I just ran and ran and ran. I had to get away from everything and everyone I'd ever known." Seemingly a little more calm, Morgan continued with his story. "I lived in a hostel for a few months, before getting a job in a music store. I went back to college and studied music…it was really hard for a couple of years. I had nothing, and nobody to turn to. But I made it through. I refused to give in. And I'm glad I didn't. I saw the talent contest advertised, I applied and won the competition…and now here I am." Smiling weakly, Morgan raised Jeff's wine glass, before taking another sip.

"I'm the most talked about pop star on the planet, with a nice circle of friends and more money that sense. I haven't been home I was kicked out, and I could count on one had the amount of phone calls I've had with my parents since I became famous."

Almost bitterly, Morgan chuckled as he swirled the wine around in the bottom of the glass. "It's funny, when there was money involved, my parents somehow managed to turn a blind eye to their pious morality long enough for me to buy them a three story country house and make sure they had enough money to retire on."

Draining the glass of the remains of the wine, Morgan ran his hand back through his dirty blonde hair, exposing a little more of his soulful eyes. "My two older brothers still don't talk to me…but my brother Jack, he's just a little older than me, he kept in contact when I moved to London. It's hard for him, considering the environment we were brought up in, but he's stood by me as best he can. He doesn't accept me the way I am…but he's prepared to ignore my being gay as best he can, and I love him for it. We meet up every couple of months or so…like I'm supposed to meet him on the 30th. So it's not that I don't want you to meet him…but it just wouldn't work. It would be too much for him to deal with."

Jeff seemed to come to life all at once. Immediately up from his seat, he crossed around the table, pulling Morgan out of his seat and safely into his arms. He kissed Morgan's lips gently, as if even the tender caress would be enough to shatter what was left of the singer. His hand gently masaged down Morgan's back, holding him closer. There was nothing he could say that would ever make Morgan's past right. But it had taken a lot of guts for Morgan to admit what he had to Jeff, and he would be forever grateful, even if Morgan never realised.

Moving his lips to Morgan's neck, Jeff planted loving kisses, before whispering into his ear. "I love you Morgan." The words caught Morgan off guard for a second. He truly hadn't been expecting them to come from Jeff, even after his admission.

"I love you too." The words weren't forced, nor did they come from deep-routed need to feel some kind of affection. They felt right to Morgan. Whatever he had with John had been fleeting, one moment that would not spill over into anything else. What he felt for Jeff was real. This was the kind of love that everyone craved in their lives, and there no way Morgan would let a mistake with John Cena ruin his chance at happiness with Jeff.

"I'm just going to the bathroom. When I get back…"Jeff stopped min-sentence, as if considering what he was about to follow it up with, "…will you come back to my room with me?" Morgan didn't miss a beat. He smiled softly, nodding his head to the affirmative. Jeff grinned, planting another kiss onto Morgan's lips. Leaving Morgan's side, he disappeared into the back of the restaurant.

Morgan drummed his fingers against the table top for a moment. The buzzing against his leg caught his attention immediately, and he removed the vibrating cell-phone. Across the display, 'John Cena' was obvious. Morgan stopped for a second, his hand hovering over the button to answer the call.

Did he want to do this? Get more involved with John when his relationship with Jeff was at such a critical stage? No matter what John wanted to say, it couldn't be worth hearing. In truth, Morgan did feel bad for Cena. It must have been a difficult decision to allow himself to be with Morgan, but it was a mistake none the less. Morgan assured himself that a relationship with another man couldn't be what John really wanted. If fact, he was certain it would be the opposite of what the 'Champ' craved.

Aside from that, was John Cena what Morgan wanted? He was painfully shy of getting involved with anyone. Would he really be stupid enough to risk his happiness on John Cena? What if, three months down the line, conducting the relationship in secret got too much for Morgan? No matter how liberated John felt, there was no way he just going to come out in the open and declare he was dating another man. It just wasn't in his character.

Similarly, Morgan couldn't be on the receiving end of an 'actually, I like girls' speech, and find himself heartbroken and bumped. There wasn't a chance he would let that happen. It was clear to Morgan why they had been together in the first place. John had needed comfort, and had turned to Morgan to get. It was a simple blur of the friendship line, and ment nothing more. John would see that in time, and Moregan had not doubt he would come to his senses. Besides, it was clear to Morgan that John still loved Ashley.

_Give them three days together, and they'll be so in love again, I'll just be a distant drunken mistake to John. This was for the best._

Holding a button, Morgan switched his phone off, effectively diverting John's call to his voicemail. Cena could leave a message if he felt the need. Not that it mattered. Morgan was doing the right thing. He was making a choice for them both. And that choice was Jeff Hardy.


	13. I Want You

_**A/N**_ : **Update. New chapter for your reading enjoyment. Apologies that it has taken me this long to post my latest installment, but it's here for you now. As ever, I am so grateful for all your kind words and reviews of what I've written. They really do mean so much to me, and really give me the inspiration I need to continue you writing. Thank you very much.**

**_Vera _- as ever, I am so thankful to you for taking the time to post a review. As someone who inspires me to better myself, it's very special to hear your your thoughts on what I've written, so thank you very much.**

**_Kay _- Thank you so much for your kind words. Your reviews always make me smile, and I'm so pleased that you like what I write. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.**

**_buffvamp_ - Welcome to the family. Thank you very much for your review.**

**_kandiland_ - Thank you for your reviews. It's awesome to know that my work has touched you in some way, and that you take the time to post your thoughts.**

**_Kim_ - You are, as ever, my most loyal reviewer. You're always turning in a review with any piece of work I write. Your support is unbelievable, and I only hope I can live up to your constant praise. You're the best ;)**

**_HuntersAngelJacky_ - Thank you very much for taking the time to review what I've written. I know you're a slash fan, so it means a lot that you read my work :)**

**_Shanny_ - My fellow slash-er !! Thanks for your support, as your work is truly inspiring! If any of you haven't read her work of genius that is 'The Edge of Reason' I suggest you go check it out NOW! It is the most awesome piece of slash fiction you will read!**

**_Rae - _Words can't describe how much your constant wisdom and support mean to me. You truly are the greatest writer I know, and I feel very blessed that you take the time to talk to me, not just to advise me on my writing, but as a friend. All hail The Queen!**

**So...to the story...**

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"I can't do this."

Morgan sighed in utter frustration. Flicking his wrist, he flung the pencil he had been holding back onto the surface of the table. It scattered across the polished oak, skidding to a halt against the half-empty mug of coffee resting near by. Gripping the smooth piece of paper covered in words and broken melodies, Morgan screwed it into a ball in between his hands and tossed it idly to the floor of the recording booth.

The young singer had spent the best part of the morning alone in the small space, trying to give words to the song he was composing. He had the basic melody down, even if it lacked a key change in the final chorus, but the lyrics were just not coming. All he had gotten was a headache from straining so hard to force the words to flow. In some ways, Morgan couldn't help but find the situation just a little ironic.

These past few days would probably be in the top five of the most emotionally turbulent times in his life. With so much going on between himself and Jeff and John, how could he now be lacking inspiration to write a set of meaningful lyrics, considering it was something he was praised for the world over? Many commentators on popular music as it is, remarked on Morgan's ability to write a compelling lyric. To the casual observer, they could appear vapid and more than a little generic. But with every song Morgan wrote, there was a deeper meaning wrapped inside it. The listener simply had to look beyond the obvious to achieve the understanding.

Of course, there was always a layer beyond that meaning, known only to a few, and it contained a more involved resonation. It was present in all of Morgan's songs, and it mostly took the form of a specific reference or general theme, which was personal to him or someone close to him. He had been questioned so many times on exactly what his songs had meant. What was their inspiration? To Morgan, that was the best part about being a fan of music. Each song means something different to the person that hears it. There was no right or wrong interpretation of his lyrics. The right inferred meaning was what the listener took it to be. It didn't matter what Morgan had written it about, it was what the song meant to the listener.

It was part of the reason why Morgan loved music so much. Everyone heard the same song, but got different things from it. However, it seemed this would not be counted amongst his great pieces of work, as the words were just not coming to him, let alone flowing at all.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" In a fit of pure frustration, Morgan pounded his hands down on the desk. Was this it for him? Was he so really emotionally fucked in the head that he could no longer compose a song?

_It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was never supposed to get so involved. But once again, my utter stupidity got the best of me, and now I'm paying for it. I'm hurting one guy to be with another. My head is so full of shit that I can't even write a decent song, even when inspiration is literally everywhere!_

Sighing in despair, Morgan relaxed back into his seat, hanging his head backwards over the back of the chair so the blonde locks hung freely in waves from his head. For the first time in a long time, the young singer could honestly say he felt lost - both personally and professionally.

After things had been getting so good in his life, one wrong decision and they had steam-rolled into the crapper once more. One brief union with John Cena, and his world had become such a mess, Morgan couldn't honestly see a way out of it. Any decision he made was bound to hurt someone, and it was something he couldn't bare doing.

But was he making the wrong decision now?

How could he be? Yes, Morgan would be the first to admit he felt something for John Cena. It was powerful, almost animal in nature. He wanted John so badly his stomach would ache with it. But Morgan couldn't honestly say he was in love with guy. That would be a lie. Maybe it was a case of lust, or simply just that Morgan hadn't gotten to know John well enough yet, but there was no intimacy beyond the physical between the pair. Their 'relationship' as it was, was only a single night of wild passion. Both had known it was a mistake, but sometimes you just couldn't deny your instincts. And whatever those instincts may turn out be, Morgan just didn't love John.

Conversely, it was the complete opposite with Jeff. It was a pure feeling of elation and what Morgan suspected to be the beginnings of love. He felt so strongly for Jeff, sometimes the North Carolina-bred man was all he could think about. Morgan's skin tingled whenever he thought about Jeff, and just one look from those heavenly green eyes melted his heart. Jeff was Morgan's first thought when he awoke of a morning, and the last thing that registered before he drifted to sleep. It didn't matter that there hadn't been a physical expression of love between the pair, they were taking things at a much slower pace. Not that they hadn't had their fair share of opportunities of course.

Even after Jeff had invited Morgan back to his hotel room after their meal, where Morgan had exposed so much of himself on a personal level, they had merely spent the night in each other's arms, simply talking. There had been the odd gentle caress and meeting of their lips, but it never progressed further than that.

They were taking their time when it came to the relationship, the exact opposite to what Morgan had done with John. And if he was honest with himself, how could anything with the WWE Champion compare? Besides which, Morgan had rushed into sex before, and look where that had gotten him.

Morgan knew he was falling for Jeff in a big way. John was a one-time moment, that whilst enjoyed, should not have happened. The singer was clear in his resolve. He should never have let things progress that far, and he felt guilty for playing with John's emotions in such a callous way, not to mention going behind Jeff's back. It hadn't been intentional, but if Morgan was sure of anything, it was that his friend deserved better. And he was sure, that as soon as John had spent some real time with Ashley, all those old feelings would re-assert themselves, and John would be happy again. It was what he really wanted. The wrestler just needed reminding of it. If anyone deserved happiness in Morgan's eyes, it was John Cena.

"Penny for your thoughts?" The voice brought Morgan rapidly out of his thoughts, as much as he wished it hadn't. Locked in the small room, he was stuck with the very person he had gone out of his way to avoid.

"You shouldn't be here John. I'm working." Without raising his eyes, Morgan responded with as much indifference as he could. His body screamed with everything it could to lock eyes with the muscle bound champion, to let himself feel that passion once more, but his head told him otherwise. It would be a mistake to get lost in those steely blue orbs, and Morgan knew how dangerous that had been the first time.

"What else was I supposed to do?" John countered, stepping further into the room. "You won't return my phone calls, you're never in your hotel room and we're leaving town tonight. I didn't want to go without talking to you."

Against his better judgement, Morgan raised his eyes, both oceanic blue pools locking gazes with John. The stab of guilt wasn't something Morgan was prepared for. An aching sadness reflected in the orbs of steely greyish-blue, betraying John's stony face. "What do you want to talk about John?"

"Don't fuck with me Morgan," John instantly regretted the harshness of his words, but it was too late to take them back now, and in his heart, he knew he meant it. "We need to talk about what happened between us. You ran your ass so fast out of my room after we spent the night together I couldn't say anything then."

"There's nothing to say," this was really not how Morgan had wanted this conversation to go. In fact, he had been dreading it since the event had happened, and was doing his level best to not have it "it was a mistake. I think we just need to accept it for what it was, and get on with things."

John crossed the length of the room in a second, dropping into a seat next to Morgan. "How can you say that?" his voice was demanding with a sense of urgency even he hadn't expected, "How can you say it was mistake? Maybe that's what you took it for. But it meant something to me."

Morgan stood up from his chair, recoiling away from John's presence. "What did it mean John? What do you want me to say here? That I loved every second of being with you, that I want you, that I want us to be together? Is that what you want? Get real here John."

Looking slightly defeated, John dipped his head, focusing his eyes on his own shuffling feet. "That's all I want." Morgan rolled his eyes, throwing his hands into the air. John couldn't do this to him, he shouldn't do it. He didn't know what he was saying.

"John…what do you want from me?" His voice was small, a pale reflection of the commanding power it had when it was in song, but Morgan felt defeated. He was teetering on the edge of a very serious emotional breakdown, and the wrong words from John right know would push him violently over the edge. Silently, Morgan pleaded with John to just turn and leave, but the words just wouldn't form in his mouth.

John hesitantly took a step closer to Morgan, eyes fixed in their gaze with the younger man. "I want you to tell me that it's okay for me to want you...that its okay for us to be together," John had closed the gap between the two. Carefully, he reached his hand closer to Morgan, softly caressing the rise of his cheek with his thumb. The simple contact stole away at Morgan's breath, causing Cena's voice to come out as a whisper. "I just want you to want me back."

For a fraction of a second, Morgan lost himself in John Cena's touch. It was a gentle as the big man could manage, and it sent Morgan's stomach in spasms. He wanted John. In fact, he would give anything to shove him up against the wall right here and have his way with him.

But as ever, the practical Morgan won over. Giving into selfish desires could only ever lead to heartache. If Morgan was ever going to get over this cycle of hurt and disappointment, he had to make a stand. It had to be for himself, and it had to be now. Exhaling softly, Morgan grabbed John's hand cupping his face, and interlocked his fingers into the wrestlers.

"I can't tell you that John. Because it's not okay," it was Morgan's turn to stroke John's face, and he did it with as much care as he could. He was about to hurt John in everyway he could. Part of him felt like evil personified, but he had to make this right if he were ever going to save himself from this, "as much as you think you do, you don't love me. You don't have feelings for me, not like that. I don't doubt for a second that you like me John. But it's only as a friend."

Cena's features creased into a mask of confusion. What was Morgan saying? How could he know what he was feeling? "I came into your life when you were at your lowest. You were really hurting because of Ashley, and you just needed someone to be there for you. I showed you real affection, and you latched onto it, making it something more than it was. No-one would blame you for doing it, but it's important you see this for what it was. You were hurt, and I was there for you, maybe in ways I shouldn't have been, but I just didn't want to see you heartbroken anymore."

"Are…are you saying you only slept with me to fix my broken heart?" John's voice, filled with incredulity was softened by the confused and disappointed facial expression. Did Morgan honestly believe he was going to buy it?

"Yes." Morgan's voice remained calm, the tone flat as he could manage. This had to be done. He didn't have a choice.

"I don't believe you!" it was almost as though he was wailing, but Cena couldn't help himself. Why would Morgan do this? After everything John had sacrificed, after everything it had taken to build up the courage to feel what he knew was love for Morgan, this happened? Morgan would stand their and deny feeling anything at all?

"It's true. I was just being your friend." Morgan was a singer, not an actor, and he could feel the tears stinging at the backs of his eyes. Under this much scrutiny from John, he was sure they would burst into rivers cascading down his cheeks.

John clearly would not have any of this. His lips crushed against Morgan's mouth before the singer knew what was going on. His large hands gripped at Morgan's lower back, his tongue pleading entrance to Morgan's mouth. Feeling his resolve crumble, Morgan pushed hard against John as hard as he could. With a burst of strength, he broke free of John's grip, and backed himself up against the wall.

John looked truly bewildered. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because we won't work John. Whether you realise it now or not, I am doing you a favour. Once you get over what happened, everything will be much clearer to you, I promise. You just need to -"

Morgan's words became cut off as John interrupted him, his voice loud and agitated. "Stop saying that! Stop acting as though this is some kind of phase. I know what I feel Morgan, and however you try to justify it to yourself, you won't change my mind."

Fighting down the urge to cry, Morgan hit back with everything he could. "So that's it? You think you say you have feelings for me and that changes your world? Grow up John!" Morgan stepped from the wall, walking closer to John as he spoke. "Did you honestly think we would be together? Look at what you do for a living! Would you really tell all the boys backstage that you have a boyfriend, that you sucked another guy off? Do you think your fans would still love and support you? Would you hold my hand or kiss me in public? Would you tell your father and your brothers about us? Have you really stopped to think this through, or are you living in some kind of fantasy?"

"I…hadn't thought…" For the first time in the conversation, John was lost for words.

"Exactly my point. Love isn't enough here John. And however acceptable being gay is, I don't think you're ready for what being with me would mean to your life and your career. And the truth is…" Morgan hadn't wanted to go here, but he felt he had no choice, "I don't love you. The sex…it was good. But it was just sex. I love Jeff, and I want to be with him more than anything else. Please understand and respect that."

"So that's it then. You just don't want me." The strain in Cena's voice was evident, but Morgan forced himself to ignore it.

"If it's easier for you to think of it that way…then yes. I want Jeff." Morgan steeled himself for what was going to come next. He expected to go for another round, and having to convince John of how this wasn't a good idea.

"You're wrong Morgan. I love you, and you feel something for me too. But I've put myself out there for you, and you've back away, and tried hurt me. If anyone's not ready for a relationship, its you. You're seriously messed up. And I guess it's not something I want to get involved in." John shook his head, as if disappointed. All his worst fears had been confirmed in one conversation. He wished he had never admitted his feelings for Morgan at all. At least that way he would have been spared another heartache.

"I don't get it. I've put myself out there for you, like I thought you wanted. But you just run in the other direction and the first sign of real connection, hiding behind Jeff like it fuckin' makes a difference. I don't know who fucked you over in your past, and I'm sorry that they did, but I ain't gonna get involved in this emotional bullshit. If you're not prepared to admit to yourself how you feel about me, then I don't got no business wasting my time you at all. I got Ashley for that head job." John turned his back on Morgan, heading for the exit of the recording booth. Morgan could only stand in stunned silence. John turned to look back over his shoulder, " You need to get over your shit Morgan. With me or with Jeff, you're just gonna push away everyone who cares about you, sooner of later."

And with that last biting statement, the WWE Champion vanished from view through the doorway. Morgan stood, for what seemed like at eternity, before warming back to his senses. Almost as though collapsing, he dropped into his seat. As if on autopilot, he griped the pencil in his hand, scribbling words furiously along side the melody already on the sheet of paper. He had to stop, for the very simple reason the tear drops rolling down his cheeks were blurring the lyrics he was creating.

Losing his grip on the pencil, Morgan's head sunk into his hands, burying his face from view. All alone in the recording booth, the only sound was Morgan's gentle sobs in the emptiness.


	14. Learn To Be Lonely

**_A/N: _Update! New chapter for you guys. Thank you for the PM's and reviews for the last chapter, the response was massive, and thank you all so very, very much. It was truly touching. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much, and as ever I would love you read and review!**

**_Matty1_ - Thank you for your review, and am very sorry I missed you out on the last chapter! You've been with me for a long time! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**_SRC_ - Thank you so much for your review and welcome you to the family. It means a lot when a fellow slash writer comments on my work, and I hope you stick with the story.**

**I dedicate this chapter to Rae, my biggest source of guidiance and inspiration. Your words recently have really helped me centre myself and made me realise what I wanted to create when I began this story. Thank you so much for time and friendship, it really does mean a lot to me.**

**Vera - to get a shout out from you in your story was the most amazing thing ever. So, in my own way, I thank you and return the support in this chapter. Thank you very much!!**

**I disclaim!!**

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_John Cena, you are turning into such a fucking girl!_

Grimacing at his own vicious critique of himself, the professional wrestler delved the metallic silver spoon deeper into the tub of 'Cookie-Dough' flavoured ice cream. With a mound of the softening solid lumped precariously on top of the spoon, John shovelled the cold ice cream into his mouth, swallowing it down with an audible 'gulp'. John bared his teeth at the icy cold biting at this throat at the ice cream sliding thickly down past his oesophagus. It was a singular sensation, but it didn't stop him from repeating the same movement again. This was his third tub of the sinful treat, and he doubted he would stop anytime soon.

He half wondered to himself if the cold was acting as some kind of numbing force against his own feelings of guilt and remorse. He had been such an ass when he had spoken to Morgan earlier on in the day. He had said some pretty low, hurtful things that he knew should never had been given a voice. And now, there was no way to take them back. He had most likely ruined whatever friendship he could have had with Morgan, simply because he'd tried to push the singer too far.

John wanted Morgan, there was no denying that, but his selfish need had cost him the only one thing he had cared about in a long time. Life had gotten so hard after his break up with Ashley. He had really loved that girl, from the tip of his toes to the swell of his heart. Every single part of his existence had been to make her happy. And she had left him from someone else, tearing his heart cleanly from his chest in the process. John knew there was no way he could ever forgive her for what she had done, no matter how much he wanted her back.

And it wasn't as though he hadn't had the chance. Ashley had been hanging around like vulture, offering herself on a plate to John. She said she had made a mistake, that it was John she truly loved. Cena wanted to believe her so much, and he almost took her back willingly. But that nagging hurt, constantly resting in the deep of his chest just wouldn't let him take that final step. He would always love Ashley, John wasn't stupid enough to think otherwise. But like his father had once said to him, sometimes you live, love and let go. Even if you do fall for someone in a big way, it didn't always mean you were going to spend the rest of your lives together. It could last three years, three days or even three weeks. It didn't make the love you shared any less important that a thirty year marriage. It was just that this relationship wasn't meat to last forever. You just had to be thankful for the time you had together, didn't you?

_Even if it was just one night?_

For the very life of him, John just could not figure Morgan out. He had honestly led himself to actually believe that Morgan had feelings for him, that he wanted him back. _How could I have read him so wrong? _John didn't pretend to be an expert on emotions, or human behaviour, but he was certain he knew enough about love to see when someone felt the same way about him. Did he really get it wrong with Morgan, or was the younger man simply denying his feelings? Whatever the reasoning behind their argument or why they couldn't be together, John knew he had blown any chance of figuring things out.

That look of hurt in Morgan's eyes…John knew that image would stay imprinted on his mind for a good long while. What was that line about there being a fine line between love and hate? Maybe it was true. Maybe John did love Morgan so much that it was all too easy to hurt him. Did that make him any better than Ashley? It was the same thing essentially, hurting the one you loved to be with someone else.

Shaking his head at the comparison, John carefully placed the empty ice cream carton on the seat next to him. Glancing up from behind the peak of his baseball cap, he saw he was very much alone in the terminal. The rows of metallic grey seats sat empty, with only a sparse handful of other travellers in visible sight. It was just John and the terminal workers. Speaking of which…

"Excuse me sir…" Glancing to his side, John noted the attractive younger woman leaning next to him. She was beautiful, with a soft bob of brown hair hanging around her face, set off with a genuinely warm smile, and stunning brown eyes. The colour was so rich, it gave John the image of silk. It was pure and intoxicating, "will you be flying with us to Oklahoma? I don't mean to rush you, but we are calling for the last of our travellers for tonight's flight."

"Can I ask you something," John stopped mid sentence to read the name emblazoned on a gold tag pinned to the woman's chest, "…Vera?" A look of interest flashed across her face as she seemed to consider John's question. Gently nodding her head, she relaxed herself into the seat to John's immediate left. "Is love enough to make a relationship work? I mean, if you love someone with everything you are as a person, shouldn't that be enough to keep two people together, no matter what the obstacles?"

"I hope so," Vera smiled warmly, raising her hand to flash a diamond engagement ring resting there, "if love isn't enough to keep two people together, then what else could? I mean, what's the point in anything?"

"Right," John readily agreed, sitting up in his seat, "isn't love what everyone wants, what everyone is basically searching for? I know it's not always simple, and there are good times and bad times in every friendship and relationship. It's a lot of hard work and sacrifice, plus it won't always be plain sailing. But surely your love is worth all that. What else is there in life other than love? That has to be all that matters."

"I agree." Vera nodded her head again, sending her hair cascading around her head in soft arcs of mahogany.

"But then again, love comes hand in hand with hurt. Maybe the point of love isn't for two people to necessarily stay together forever, especially if you're hurting as a result. Maybe it's more than you learn from the experience, and grow from being involved with someone. Even if you think you can a relationship work, it's better to love them and let them go. Wouldn't you just be making them miserable otherwise?"

"Perhaps. But if it's real love, like 'Gone With The Wind' kinda stuff, why would you want to give that up? I know I wouldn't, and god help my boyfriend if he ever tried to leave me because he thought he was doing right by me. That wouldn't be his decision to make." John stopped at Vera's words. Turning his head, he focused intently on her eyes.

"What did you say?" John leaned closer, as if straining to listen to Vera's words again.

Looking a little uncomfortable at the sudden scrutiny, Vera hesitantly repeated what she said. "That…that it wouldn't be his decision to make?"

The look in her eyes showed her uncertainty, but it seemed to set alight something in John, as though he had gained another level of understanding. She was so right. It wasn't Morgan's decision to make, that them being together was a mistake. But was it really that simple? "But what if you know the world is against you? Like you know that being with this person, even though you know it's what you want, that your life…and your entire world just wouldn't accept you being in love with them? If society is basically against you, is it right to jeopardise everything you ever known for the love of someone else?"

"If you don't, well then what would be the point in being in love at all?" Vera's features creased into a heartfelt smile, "if you're not willing to take the risk on somebody you're crazy for, then why bother feeling at all? If you don't get burned once in a while, how would you know what love is at all? If people don't accept your love, then screw people. What they and the whole god damn world shouldn't matter. It's supposed to be about what you feel, right?"

"Right." John agreed. For some reason, Vera had reached a level of understanding with John, which was on a shared wavelength, even though they had no idea of each others' personal circumstances.

"I don't know," Vera added, tucking a wave of hair behind her ear, "all I know, is that love it worth any price. If you love somebody that much that you couldn't bare to live without them, then you have duty to your own heart to at least try to make it work. If you're meant to be together, then things will work themselves out. If not, well at least you'll know you made sure you weren't passing up your chance at true happiness. All I know for sure, is that true love doesn't come around everyday. You need to grab it and hold it close and never let it go. If you let that slip through your fingers because you're 'trying to do the right thing' then you're a fool. I risked a lot to be with my man, but I don't regret the decision at all. What I've gained by just basking in his love far outweighs what I've lost because of it."

Reaching out, Vera grasped John's hand in her own. "Seriously sir. If you love whoever it is that much, take the risk. Don't let them go because you think you're doing right by them, fight for them. Claw and bite and sweat and cry…whatever it takes for you to be together. You know they are worth it."

John nodded his head slowly. Vera was making a lot of sense. If ever he felt sure of his feelings, it was now. He couldn't let this go, he could not leave Morgan without trying one more time make things right. John loved Morgan, and he wouldn't let Morgan's fear get in the way of it.

Getting up from her seat, Vera nodded softly. "I'll leave the gate open for fifteen more minutes' sir. If you want to board the flight, I'll be waiting. But I think it's time for you to take the risk." Smiling over John's shoulder, Vera turned on her heel and scurried towards the desk at the opposite end of the lobby.

Craning his neck to get a better view of what Vera saw, John felt his heart turn over. Standing just a few feet away was Morgan. His eyes looked tired, and he could easily see the singer had been crying. John felt a wave of guilt wash over him. The tears were his fault. He had hurt Morgan, and he had to make it right. Slowly, the WWE Champion rose from his seat, standing to face Morgan. His heart pounded so violently in his chest, John was sure it was going to burst straight through the muscle and bone. It didn't help matters that there was a deep look of sadness embedded in Morgan's eyes.

Opening his mouth to speak, John was cut off as Morgan raised his hand to silence him. "Don't talk John…I really need to get this out." Shuffling his feet, Morgan took a deep breath before continuing. "You were so wrong in what you said to me today. I don't have a fear of commitment, and I am certainly not messed up. It's just I'm tired. I'm tired of being used, I'm tired of being hurt. But mostly, I'm tired of you and me. We never had a future, and we can never be together, not in the way you want. However much you want it, it just will not work. Whilst you might be ready to sacrifice your life and career for me, I'm just not ready to do the same for you. As hard as it is for you to hear this, I do not love you. I'm sorry, but I just don't. If I did, maybe things would be different…"

Morgan stopped, noting the hurt expression marking John's features. It was as thought the mountain of muscle was crumbling before his very eyes. "I'm not saying this to hurt you. Please don't think so low of me that I'm doing this to make you hate me so you won't want me anymore...that's not it. I'm doing this because you're my friend, and I care about you so much that I honestly think you deserve the truth. Maybe I am being selfish by not taking a chance on you, but that's my prerogative. Why can't I be selfish and do something for myself? Is that so wrong, to want myself to be happy instead of wanting to make sure someone else is? I don't know, that's for you to decide."

Reaching into his pocket, Morgan retrieved a CD. With a measure step, he moved closer to John, holding the disc out to the wrestler. "This CD will explain me better than I can right now. Listen to it, and maybe you'll understand why I'm doing this. I really want us to be friends John, and I understand if you don't want that. But please don't forget that I care about you, and I don't want you to be hurting anymore. I wish there was someway I could make this simple, and just make is easy for you, but I can't, and I really am sorry for that. If I can assure you of anything, is that you will be okay. You're a different guy from that heartbroken man I met all those months ago. You're so much stronger that you realise, and one day someone is going to come into your life and make you so happy. But for now, I think you just need to remember what it's like being John Cena, and not have someone else in your life. Learn to be by yourself for a while."

John accepted the CD from Morgan, studying the blank white surface to keep from showing the tears pooling in his grey blue eyes. "Learn to be lonely, I think you mean." The bitterness in his voice was evident, but John made to attempt to hide it. Morgan had done so much to fix his broken heart, and know it was almost as though the singer was crushing it beneath his heel. Raising his gaze to meet Morgan's, John's eyes narrowed into a glare.

"I wish I had never gotten involved with you at all. I risked so much to just let myself feel for you, and for what? So I could get my heart broken again. Are you happy? Are you pleased that I've admitted it? Yeah Morgan, you've crushed me. I knew it was wrong to the chance on you, but I honestly went with my heart instead of my head…I'm such a fuckin' loser for ever believing in you…"

"John…" Morgan tried to stop this before it got any further, but the broken wrestler would not allow it.

"I am so stupid. I let myself get hurt again. I opened up to you in ways I have never done with anyone else in my life…" John stopped himself mid sentence, as he took in the true weight of his words. "…I really hope to God that I never see you again for as long as I live."

Morgan's eyes widened at the statement. It was easily the most hurtful thing Cena could ever have said to him. But John clearly wasn't finished. "I wish…I just wish… I wish never met you." Shaking his head, Cena couldn't stop the single tear rolling down over his cheek, but he brushed it away as quickly as it appeared. Spinning on his heel, he gripped his duffle bag from the floor by his seat. Without a single word, he marched towards the desk at the opposite end of the terminal.

Morgan watched as he stopped for a moment. It became evident all too soon why he had done so. With a single flick of his wrist, John threw the CD Morgan had made into nearest trash can. Shrugging his bag onto his shoulder, John approached the desk, handing his ticket over the desk to the glum faced Vera.

"Just get me out of here." He forced through gritted teeth. His face falling into a stony mask, John marched down the corridor connecting the plane, fighting back the tears burning in his eyes. Symbolically, he was burning a bridge. He was done making a fool of himself, and he was certainly done with feeling anything at all for Morgan. He would just push the pain somewhere where it couldn't hurt him anymore, no matter what the cost.

But however much he would convince himself he was over their relationship, John didn't know which he would regret more. That he told Morgan he never wanted to see him again, or that he walked out of his life without ever turning to look back. Whatever the reason, to John it didn't matter. He had done what he felt he had to do. As far as he was concerned, he would never see Morgan again as long as he lived.


	15. Put Yourself In My Place

**_A/N : _Update. Reece is not a happy bunny. Read my profile for a further explanation.**

**New chapter for your reading pleasure. I hope you enjoy this one, I kind of enjoyed writing from three different perspectives. As ever, I adore your reviews and would welcome more from you lovely people. PLEASE read and review! I disclaim.**

**Competition time. Points for whoever can name the actual artisits who released the albums "One Touch" and "Let's Get To It". Bonus point for whoever can name the artist/group that released 'What Took You So Long?'.**

**PM me your answers. First PM received with correct answers wins. I shall let the winner pick your own prize (within reason :p)**

**Lyrics are from one of my favourite songs 'Put Yourself In My Place' by Kylie Minogue.**

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_Whoever said 'time is the great healer of all wounds' was a muthafuckin' liar._

I guess you're assuming you've stumbled into the thoughts of a somewhat bitter and all too angry drunk. Well, you're not so far from the truth. They are in fact the thoughts of the incumbent WWE Champion and not quite so sober John Felix Anthony Cena, who at this moment in time is not a happy man.

The 6ft 1 mountain of human muscle was clear agitated as he flung himself down onto the middle of his brand new leather sofa. Truthfully John hadn't wanted a leather set of furniture. Far from it. He hated that style of furniture. But Ashley had wanted it so damn much he had agreed to pay the ludicrous price as long as it shut her the hell up. Anything to quieten that chirpy '_make a house a home' _garbage she was spouting recently.

Glancing up from his vacant musing into the half empty beer bottle caught between his fingers, John took in his surroundings. By all accounts, it was a tastefully decorated and unmentionably expensive apartment in the heart of New York City. With John's career as a professional wrestler, he found himself journeying to the great city several times a year, and it just made sense to have a permanent place where he could crash when the time called for it.

The apartment seemed the perfect opportunity to test his newly resumed relationship with Ashley Massaro, and so he had invited her to move in here with him. She wasn't invading his personal space that formed his home back in Massachusetts, but it was still a home they shared together. She had taken to decorating in earnest, and in fairness, John liked what she had done with place. He just hated the damn couch.

What a difference six months could make. If someone had asked John all those months ago if he would have met, slept with and then been dumped by another guy, just to get back together with his ex fiancé and move in with her…well he probably would have given the guy some money and told him to stay off the liquor. And yet here he was. Stuck at home in his apartment, wondering on what could…should have been, and drinking cheap beer. Could it get anymore pathetic than this?

_Chill Cena. You just need another beer. Maybe two. And a shot. A double. Of Tequila. And possibly some vodka… _

Groaning as he dragged himself back up from the seat, John padded his way towards the kitchen. Gripped the metallic handle of the refrigerator, he extracted another two bottles of the nasty beer he was slugging down like there was no tomorrow. As the gleaming white door swung to a close, John caught a hint of his reflection. He looked rougher than a Long Island prostitute. His usually closely shaven head had grown considerably, showing his naturally wavy brown hair. He hadn't shaved in about a week, giving his face a thick dark shadow, an almost unnatural look for Cena. Worst of all, the usually intense steely blue eyes looked dim and washed out.

John honestly felt that he had let himself go. He was a disappointment to his family, his friends, and most importantly himself.

Why did this have to be so hard? Why was he seemingly incapable of moving on from a relationship? Anyone else who had been dumped would have gotten over it, but not John Cena. He was about as close to being a wreck as anyone could dread of becoming. He could mope and deny his feelings to himself until the cows came home, but they were always there, gnawing at the back of mind, unconsciously dictating his life to him

Well, enough was enough. He'd finally had enough of running around and feeling broken and sorry for himself. If he was ever going to get over Morgan, it wouldn't occur by just slouching in front of the television all day. It was time to make a few changes. Starting now.

Absent mindedly shrugging his shoulders, John wandered back into the sitting room, throwing himself back down onto the couch. With his free hand, he gripped the remote for the television set, flicking the plasma screen to life before his eyes.

Cena's lips curled into something of a snarl as he recognised the show he was watching. _"Cassie Says." _John had been a guest on the show almost a year ago when he had won back the title belt. It was where…it was where he had met Morgan for the first time. Biting back the cold chill gnawing at his throat, John moved his thumb to immediately change the channel. But something stopped him. His eyes widened it what could only be described as fascinated horror. All he could do was allow his mouth to drop open as his ears registered what Cassie was saying.

"…_of course we all know him for pop hits such as 'Drowning' and 'What Took You So Long?'. His debut album 'One Touch' became a record setter, and has so far sold almost twelve million copies worldwide. He's just about to release his second solo album, entitled 'Let's Get To It', which has already received rave reviews from music critics and fans alike. Here, singing a track from the album…please welcome…Morgan Lee!"_

_Excuse me? Did I hear right? _John couldn't help but let his mouth go even more slack at the sound of that name. It was like an amazing disaster. Secretly, some part of John had been desperate to hear some sort of news on how the singer was getting on, and yet conversely it was almost the stuff nightmares were made of. The wrestler considered rubbing his eyes for a moment just to make sure his sense weren't betraying him.

Was this really happening? It seemed it must be, as John recognised the voice long before Morgan's emerged on screen.

"_I can't take this situation, it's making me feel so blue. One moment you walked into my life, and now you're saying that we're through"_

And there he was. After almost 6 months of avoiding the arguably most popular singer in the world, all John's efforts seemed wasted as Morgan appeared on the flat screen before his eyes.

"_I hear that you're in love now, babe I don't know what to say. I can't believe that I still feel this way. I hear that you're in love now, babe I don't know what to say. Before you decide you won't be mine, put yourself in my place."_

Not that John professed to be an expert, but Morgan certainly looked thinner than he remembered, pretty much verging on ill. Maybe it wouldn't be as obvious to the casual observer, but the wrestler definitely noted Morgan's face looking more angular than before. He even noted the change in Morgan's hair. It had been cut back, removing a great deal of the length exposing Morgan's face a little more. The colour wasn't the dirty blonde which John was used to, rather it was a darker shade of brown. Somehow, the new looked seemed to enhance the colour of Morgan's eyes, as though they were both tiny orbs of sea water floating restlessly.

In some sort of morbid way, John couldn't help but pay more attention. Sitting up straight, he rested his hands on his knees, balancing out his weight as he leaned closer to the television set. It was only now that he seemed to register the words that Morgan was singing, as though he were talking through the television screen directly to him. No matter how hard he had tried to bury the feeling he harboured for Morgan, they couldn't help but rear their ugly little heads, battering John's insides to the point of tears.

"_The circle will come around, you're gonna put yourself in my place. When your lovers bring you down, and there's no-one else around, you're gonna put yourself in my place."_

Just seeing Morgan brought back all the agony John had felt when the couple had split. Not that they had ever been together in the first place. Morgan had been adamant that that would never happen.

"_There's no rhyme or reason, that keeps me playing along. I guess that I'll just keep on believing, inside you love will know right from wrong. I hear that you're in love now, babe I don't know what to say. I can't believe that I still feel this way. I hear that you're in love now, babe I don't know what to say. Before you decide you won't be mine, put yourself in my place."_

Forcing himself to look away from the images on the screen, John's hand slapped at the seat next to him, gripping for the remote. Finally finding the object of his search, John pushed the off button, the image of Morgan fading in a single glow of white. Maybe it was symbolic, but John didn't care. This had to stop. John just could not keep on living like this, on the verge of two worlds. Half of him was so cut up at losing Morgan, he didn't think his heart would ever mend. He just felt as though he couldn't give all of himself to Ashley like this.

And yet, the other half wanted Ashley so badly John could almost taste. This was the woman he had fallen in love with, and convinced himself he was going to marry. But he couldn't but wonder if he was betraying Morgan and himself by being with her. Having explored so much of himself during the course of one brief relationship, John honestly wondered if he could ever go back to the life he had before. The nerves of people finding out he had slept with a man was one concern, but what worried John more went a lot deeper.

Could he really go back to being in love with Ashley when he knew, for however short a time, he'd been about as close to heaven as you could. And it was all in the arms of another guy.

Briskly rubbing his hands over his face, John was barely aware of the door opening and closing, even less so of Ashley entering the apartment. In truth, he only knew she was there when he felt her arms wrap around his neck. Starting a second, he breathed a gentle sigh of relief as he felt the feather soft kisses raining down on the back of his neck. Weakly, he raised his own hand, cupping her forearm in his palm.

"Hey baby," Ashley purred. In one swift movement, she glided over the top of the couch to land on John's lap. Once there, she began to run her hands up down his back, tracing the contours of his shoulder muscles with the tips of her fingers. "Did you miss me?"

"Sure." John's delivery was flat, almost devoid of any feeling. Ashley didn't seem to notice however, as she moved her attentions to John's neck, nipping her teeth at the flesh she found there.

"So, I was thinking, maybe we could go out tonight? Like with the guys and stuff?" John knew exactly what Ashley was trying to get to, but refused to help her along. If she was going to raise the 'issue' between them, then she would have to do it by herself. "…I was thinking maybe we could tell people that we're engaged again. Like have a celebration or something?"

Cena didn't mean to groan, but he made the sound nevertheless. With a firm grip of her waist, John gently lifted Ashley from his lap, placing her down gently on the seat next to him. Cupping her face with his hand, he stared intently into her eyes. "We've talked about this," he began, "I'm just not ready to let everyone know yet, okay?"

"But why?" Ashley knew very well she was whining, but that didn't stop her at all. "We've been back together for six months, engaged for two. Is it so wrong of me to want to share the news with my best friends?"

John noted the pout on Ashley's lips with an arched eyebrow. If they'd had this conversation once, they'd had it a thousand times but she conveniently had forgotten. "Look, baby I'm just getting used to us being together again…just getting back into the engagement groove myself y'know? I want to experience it for myself for a while, get used to being a couple again."

"You don't want people to know you asked me to marry you?" Her doe eyes filled with hurt and tears to boot. She had screwed up so badly in the past, and it seemed to her that she would be paying for her mistakes for the rest of her life.

"Of course I want people to know. But I don't see why everyone needs to know," with a soft motion, John brushed away one of the tears tumbling down her cheek with the tip of his thumb, "at least not yet. I want us to be together for a while first. Remember what it feels like to be together. Everyone will know soon enough. Can't we just enjoy it being all about me and you for a while…please?"

Ashley seemed to consider John's offer for a second, before nodding her head. Allowing a smile to curve her mouth, she pounced on John, pushing him down onto his back. Her mouth was in his in a second, lips melting together in a blazing kiss. Pulling her head back, she giggled softly. "I love you John Cena," John smiled softly up into Ashley's face, tucking a wave of her hair behind her ear, "but you need to take a shower. You stink."

Grinning, John patted the palm of his hand on the round of Ashley's buttock as he slid out from underneath her. Gripping his tee-shirt, he pulled it up over his head, before slinging at her. It landed on top of her head, covering her from view. Squealing at how bad the garment smelled, Ashley pulled it off her head, before slinging back at John. Shaking his head, John chuckled as he wandered towards the bathroom. Before stepping inside, he turned to glance back over his shoulder. "You'd better get ready if we're going out tonight."

Beaming, Ashley watched the muscles of John's back shift as he pushed the door open before disappearing inside the bathroom. Relaxing back into the couch after getting a good view, she gripped at the remote, clicking the television to 'on'. Settling back, she became engrossed in the conversation taking forth.

"…but surely you must agree that two men in a relationship cannot provide the kind of stable home that a child needs to grow up in. It just can't be the same."

Rolling his eyes, Morgan could help but let the sigh escape. "Why not? Just because it's two men or women for that matter involved in a relationship, why do you assume they can't provide a stable upbringing for a child? Would they love the child any less that a heterosexual couple? No. Would they deny the kid things a straight couple would give? No. Would they protect and guide the child any less than a man and a woman? No. Love is love Ms Moore. It doesn't matter who it's between, it's too basic to be limited by gender. It's your kind of view point that makes kids suffer, that somehow they lack by not being in a loving mother father household. That's what needs to be changed."

Clearly flustered, Cassie tried to move on to her next point. "Well what about men who are secretly conducting homosexual affairs behind their wives' backs. Wouldn't you agree on how wrong that is?"

Licking his lips, Morgan made no effort to hesitate before he answered. "I agree that affairs are wrong, yes, but not because it happens to be with a man instead of a woman." This was dangerous territory for Morgan to be treading on, but he couldn't exactly back down now he had started his answer. "Sometimes, there are circumstances which stops a guy from coming out. Have you ever thought that maybe the guy isn't gay, he just happens to fallen in love with another man? You love a person Ms. Moore, not an entire gender. The world is too quick to label you and shove you in a box."

"Well that's just silly," Cassie retorted, failing to raise laughter from the audience, "you're either gay or you're not."

"Wrong again Cassie. Stop sticking labels on things. You can't choose who you fall in love with. The gender they happen to be has nothing to do with anything." Morgan smiled softly as he spoke. "Don't be so quick to limit everything to a category. You can love the same sex and not be gay."

"Yes…but don't you think it's wrong?" She was clearly fighting a losing battle, but Cassie wouldn't give in so easily.

"Maybe. But only the cheating aspect." Choosing his words carefully, Morgan continued, "I think if you are going to conduct a relationship with a man, then you need to be up front about it. You can't be in love with someone, but want to hide in the shadows about it. If you're not prepared to do that, then it's up to the other person to break it off. Even if you share their feelings…you just know if they're ready to make the decision to be together. You need to protect yourself as well as him"

Like a shark tasting blood, Cassie immediately went in for the kill. "Are we speaking philosophically, or personally Mr. Lee? Something tells me you're speaking from experience. Am I to assume that you've conducted a sordid affair with a man, who the world assumes is straight?"

Feeling his anger flair, more because of he had said too much than Cassie's probing, Morgan gritted his teeth sharply. "I don't think that is any of your business Cassie. But your answer is no. I have not conducted any sordid affair with a so called straight man."

"If you had, would you tell us?" Cassie smile was slow as it spread across her lips, almost self assured of its own superiority.

"No comment." Morgan returned the cold smile, his laced with a little more venom than the one he had received. Cassie chuckled at the sight, leaning back into her seat. In her own way, she felt as if she had won victory.

"Not so talkative now Mr. Lee. What would you do now if you were in my shoes, and armed with this little confession?" Her eyebrow arched as awaited her response, wondering if she could trap Morgan into saying something else he would regret. It seemed however, Morgan would not play along with her game. Leaning back into his own seat, he simply smiled.

"Wrap it up." Morgan smiled deepened, much to the annoyance of the show's host as her audience laughed along with Morgan. Turning to face the camera, she began her well rehearsed closing speech. Ashley never saw it however, as she clicked a button on her remote, shutting the television off.

Ashley agreed wholeheartedly with everything Morgan had said, and felt a little more than venom towards Cassie. A man should have the guts to be honest with everyone if he was dating another guy. If you wanted to be with someone that much, you should be prepared to conduct the relationship in the open. Surely society had progressed far enough to allow that to happen? Whatever the answer, she applauded the young singer for his open and honest responses, even in the face of such a prejudiced line of questioning.

They always said ignorance was bliss. In Ashley's case, they would be right.


	16. Hand On Your Heart

**A/N : Update. New chapter for your oh so naughty enjoyment. That's right you lovely people._ This chapter contains strong sexual content_. If two men getting it on doesn't appeal to you, go ahead and skip this one.**

**I want to thank you guys for sticking with this story, and being so patient with my updates. Apart from the fact I'm juggling about five stories right now, I'm torn with how I'm going to end this. I've got my ending figure out, at least the ending I originally wanted...but I'm not so sure anymore. Anyways, we've got a good few chapters before we get there!**

**As ever, Morgan is mine, the rest is owned by someone other than. I don't own 'em. So don't sue. Please read and review guys! I know FF is being a bit of a biatch, but I'd really love some feedback from you all! **

**By the way, _Kim_ and _Shiftael_, you guys won my little competition. So, what do want as your prize? E-Mail me (address is on my profile page) and let me know!!**

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"Jeff…what are you doing?"

"I…am drawing on your back." Morgan, eyes still firmly closed, furrowed his brow. Gently opening his eyes, the room slowly came back into view. The morning haze slowly lifted, and Morgan instantly recognised the inside of the hotel room he was sharing with his boyfriend.

Face down on the double bed, Morgan could feel the weight of Jeff on the back of his legs. Stripped down to his black Calvin Klein boxer-briefs, the young singer giggled as the caress of Jeff's hand caused a tickling sensation over his back. Raising his eyes to the ornate mirror fixed to the wall on the other side of the room, Morgan stared into their shared reflection.

For starters, Morgan had terrible bed hair. His newly dyed blonde hair was an interesting cone resting at a jutting right angle from somewhere on the top his head. Resting over his lower back was Jeff. He too was shirtless. In fact, from what Morgan could see of his boyfriend's hip, he was completely naked. Ignoring the blush rising to his cheeks, Morgan watched with interest as Jeff dipped the tip of his finger into a small pot of body paint, before resuming his art work over Morgan's back.

"You wanna tell me what you're drawing?" Morgan drawled, slapping at the mass of hair on the top of his head. Jeff smiled into the reflection of the mirror, locking glances with Morgan. Reaching up his free hand, Jeff slid his fingers through Morgan's hair, gently stroking them from root to tip, so much so that Morgan's hair now rested more naturally against his head.

"It's a surprise." Jeff informed him. Smiling softly, Morgan returned the gesture. His hand moved to cup the side of Jeff's face. Jeff turned into the touch, leaving feather light kisses across Morgan's palm. Smiling softly, Morgan lost his fingers in the waves of red, purple and yellow spilling down over Jeff's head. Gripping a little tighter, Morgan used Jeff's hair as leverage to pull him closer. Arching his eyebrows suggestively, Jeff let himself be pulled forward, ending on top of Morgan.

Their lips met, melting together so slowly that Morgan almost lost his mind. Jeff's lips were velvety soft, the soft caress of his tongue easing their way over Morgan's plump bottom lip. With a gentle moan, Morgan's lips parted, and Jeff waited no time in sliding his tongue through the gap.

Resting one hand on the nape of Morgan's neck, Jeff lost himself in the feel of Morgan's mouth. Their tongues danced together, caressing and massaging each other's to the point of breathlessness. Resting on hand between Jeff's sculpted shoulder blades, Morgan let the tips of his fingers travel down Jeff's back, touching every contour and groove, revelling in the feel of Jeff's skin against his own. Dipping his hand down further, Morgan gripped at the delicious round of Jeff's buttock, kneading the flesh beneath his finger tips.

Jeff moaned softly into Morgan's mouth, instinctively grinding his naked hips between Morgan's legs. Seemingly getting a hold of himself, Jeff pulled his head back slightly, resting his weight on his elbows. Morgan looked curiously up at this boyfriend, his hands still playing the backs of Jeff's legs. With his thumb, Jeff softly traced the curve of Morgan's cheek, as if he were trying to memorise every inch of his face. "I have something for you." Jeff whispered. He rolled to the left, off Morgan and to the side of the bed.

Morgan groaned, feeling an awful sense of loss with out Jeff on him. A smile touched his lips as he noted Jeff's semi aroused state. Being naked, it pretty left everything in the open. Rummaging around in his duffel bag, Jeff found what he was looking for. Turning back to face Morgan, there was a definite grin on his face as he kept his hands behind his back.

It was all Morgan could do keep his gaze at eye level, although he did hazard the occasional glance further down below Jeff's waist. Lowering himself onto the bed, Jeff lay down next to Morgan, rubbing his hand up the length of his boyfriend's side. From behind his back, he produced a small, black box. Slowly, he offered it to Morgan. Pulling himself up into a seated position, Morgan accepted the box, looking curiously at Jeff.

"What's this?" He raised an eyebrow, looking suspiciously at Jeff.

"Open it, and find out." Licking his lips, Jeff kept his sea green eyes firmly on Morgan's ocean blue depths. Exhaling softly, Morgan carefully unfastened the button latch keeping the box closed. With the slightest of movement, he pushed the lid open. Inside, rested a simple white silk cushion. At the centre of the cushion, rested something which took Morgan's breath away.

It was a single band, made of brushed platinum. Eight brilliant diamonds glittered from the band, travelling around the band. The polished edges were mesmerising, adding the most exquisite eye-catching shine. Feeling his breath caught in his throat, Morgan was truly lost for words. "What…what is…?"

"I love you, Morgan Oliver Lee. I love you so much sometimes I can't breathe. You bring light and happiness to everything you do, to everyone you know. You've made me happier than I ever thought I could be. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Say you'll marry me." Jeff's voice brimmed with emotion, the soft southern whisper sending chills running up and down Morgan's spine, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Jeff…of course I'll marry you." Jeff eyes lit up, the jade-green coming alive in ecstasy. His mouth was on top of Morgan's in a minute, something his boyfriend with kisses. "Wait…there's something I need to ask you." Jeff licked his bottom lip, enjoying the taste of Morgan. Nodding his head back, he waited patiently to hear what was on his fiancé's mind. "I love you Jeff. I love everything about you…I love just being with you. But…we've never been together…I mean, we've never made love…"

Morgan let his voice trail off, but Jeff had the gist of what he was saying. It was true, they had been together almost seven months, and they had never made to love to each other. What Morgan first found the most endearing thing about their relationship slowly slipped into concerned paranoia. Not that a relationship was ever about sex for him, but it was the ultimate expression of love, by giving everything you are to someone else.

"It's not that I don't want to," Jeff assured, leaving a sweet kiss on Morgan's lips. "I've wanted you in my bed since I met you. But I've only just come out of a really stage time in my life. I did a lot of shit that I'm not proud of, and that I can't take back. So I made a promise to myself, that when I fell in love…when I found the one for me, that I would wait till I knew it was real love. I wouldn't have sex again until I was sure I was in love."

"But…I thought you just said…I mean didn't you just ask me to…?" Morgan's thought were broken, and his words reflected this. If anything, he felt totally deflated. Everything Jeff had just said about getting married, he'd contradicted two seconds later by saying he wouldn't have sex until he found real love.

"No, don't get me wrong Morgan. I am so in love with you. I know you're the guy for me. And I want you so bad, cold showers are having no effect on me anymore." Jeff chuckled softly, "But there's still a lot of hurt here." Jeff rested his hand against Morgan's heart as he spoke. "I know you really care for me Morgan, but I don't think you're sure if you can give your everything to me. And until you are, you won't truly be in love with me. So if I couldn't sleep with you until I was sure, then I have to apply the same respect for you. And that's okay. I can wait. Hell, I'll wait for as long as it takes for you to know that I'm not going to hurt you…only love you forever."

Morgan felt a tear brim to the surface, and tumble down over his cheek. Jeff caught with a gentle sweep of his thumb, brushing it away as though it had never fallen. "So, if you'll excuse me, I need to go take on of those cold showers I was telling you about because…hot damn boy…" Jeff chuckled again, capturing Morgan's lips in a brief kiss.

Rolling up from the bed, Jeff crossed the room. Morgan followed Jeff across the room with his oceanic blue eyes. A gentle sigh escaped his lips as the naked form of his boyfriend disappeared into the bathroom. Morgan found himself playing with sheet around him, gently smoothing them out.

Deep down, Morgan felt like he didn't deserve Jeff. He was the most beautiful soul Morgan had ever known. He truly loved Morgan, and would do anything to love and honour him. The thought brought fresh tears to Morgan's eyes. If he was so sure of this, why couldn't he go that extra inch and give everything of himself to Jeff? Was John right? Could Morgan never truly give himself to someone, only push them away? Although he said it, would Jeff wait forever? Should he be expected to? It hardly seemed fair to Jeff.

Consumed by thoughts, Morgan jumped out of the bed, pulling the sheets almost completely off the bed as he did so. As usual, he was spending too much time thinking about things. It was his biggest downfall. He could never really act on pure instinct, his head always got in the way of everything. It was why Morgan felt he spent so much of his time alone. There was always that nagging fear stopping him from just letting go.

Glancing into his reflection once more, Morgan gazed deeply into his own eyes. Although he stood by his decision, he couldn't help but wonder to himself, if he hadn't thought so much about what his relationship couldn't be with John, would it have become the relationship it should have been? And then there was Jeff. Morgan had the guy of his dreams practically offering himself on a platter, and he just couldn't take the plunge. Maybe he really did have a deep seated fear of commitment. Was that so wrong? What normal person didn't want to keep their hearts out of vulnerable situations? It was human nature. You had to look out for yourself, because no-one else would.

Turning on his heel, Morgan turned his back to the mirror, turning his head to crane over his shoulder. His eyes travelled the length of his back, his breath stolen at the image Jeff had created. It was an angel. No, not quite. The angel looked so sad. Resting on his bottom, his head was buried into his legs in a defeated pose. Both arms hung loosely at his sides, as if in near supplication. Both feathered wings hung low, acting as some kind of shield against the world. Morgan couldn't see his face, but he could feel the torment coming from him. It was like she was speaking to him…nearly screaming at him. He was so sad. Not knowing where the words came from, but they felt right to Morgan. He was a fallen angel.

Covering his mouth with his hand, Morgan fought back the wave of tears biting at the back of his eyes. For what felt like an eternity, his eyes were transfixed on the angel on his back, lost in the world of sadness.

The next thing he knew, Morgan was somehow inside the bathroom. The gentle rush of the shower came from the corner of the room. Morgan's tear streaked eyes could just about make out Jeff's figure through the steamed covered cubicle. Condensation ran rivulets down through the fog of steam, giving the occasional hint of flesh fleeting behind the door. As though he were acting on impulse, Morgan hooked the waist band of his underwear beneath his thumbs, softly pushing them down over his legs to the floor. Stepping out of them, Morgan reached forward, gripping the handle of the door.

As quietly as he could, he pulled the door open and stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him. Jeff had been resting with his face against the wall, letting the water come cascading down over his face and back. But he had heard the door close if not open. Turning around, he felt two hands part his hair, pushing it back out of his face. His eyes narrowed in confusion for a second, before widening in recognition.

"Morgan…what are you doing? You…you shouldn't be -…" Jeff's voice cut off at the feeling of Morgan's mouth pressing onto his own. His lips were furious with their need, stealing at Jeff's breath, even his very mind. Trying to form some kind of resistance, Jeff placed both hands on Morgan's shoulders, pushing him back. "Morgan, if you don't stop…I'm not going to be able to say no…I don't want you to do this if you're not ready."

"I'm ready Jeff. I'm sorry it took me this long realise it. I want you Jeff. I want you to let you all the way in…just…be careful with my heart okay? It's kinda bruised…" Morgan smiled sadly, but Jeff kissed the look off his beautiful lips. Their lips glided across each others, as Jeff went straight for Morgan's neck, licking his tongue across the beating pulse, eliciting a sharp moan from Morgan. Jeff allowed his teeth to roam the length of Morgan's neck, nipping and leaving soft bites across the flesh.

Reaching his hand out to the side, Morgan gripped at a bottle of shower gel resting on the shelf. Reaching his hand around Jeff's shoulders, he squeezed a considerable amount of the blue liquid into his palm. Putting the bottle back where he found it, Morgan rubbed his hands together, the gel suddenly foaming and bubbling with contact. Placing both hands of Jeff's shoulders, Morgan pushed him back, so that he was resting up against the wall.

Morgan's hands teased their way over Jeff's broad shoulders, resting at the centre of his chest. Parting his hands, Morgan ran his palms over Hardy's chest, cupping each toned pectoral muscle, making circular motions as he caressed them. The movement drew gasps of pleasure from Jeff, as the soft motions caused his skin to tingle, rising like goose flesh. The gel foamed as Morgan continued twisting his hands, the tips of his fingers grazed at the soft buds of flesh on Jeff's chest, bringing them out to stand taut and erect.

Leaning in closer, Morgan touched his lips against Jeff's, sucking on his bottom lip as his hands travelled further down. Spreading his fingers, Morgan let his hands explore Jeff's abdomen, from the taut muscles just below his chest, the slight curves of his hips. Jeff could only moan at the feeling of Morgan's hands. The slick soap made his touch delicate, giving a teasing pleasure that sent blood rushing to between his legs. Smiling into the kiss, Morgan could feel Jeff's hardness pressing against his leg, loving how aroused his boyfriend was becoming from his touch.

Locking gazes with Jeff's eyes, Morgan let his hands descend even further. In one hand, he wrapped his soapy first around Jeff's hardened length, whilst his other hand found its way to globes of flesh hanging below it. Jeff moaned long and deep, his voice bouncing around the shower, causing Morgan's skin to tingle as he slowly began to stroke the shaft, teasing the head between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand carefully fondled the tightening sack, giving enough pressure to make Jeff see stars, but not cause him any pain.

Hearing Jeff's breath become ragged, Morgan began to increase the pace of his hand, making long stroking motions, tightening his grip on the hardness. Jeff's pulse raced around his body, as the blinding pleasure began to build in the pit of his stomach. The lubricated friction was pushing him closer to oblivion, and he wouldn't be able to hold out any longer. Hugging Morgan to his chest, he twisted him around so now Morgan rested against the wall. Pinning Morgan's arms against the wall by his wrists, Jeff's mouth attacked the curve resting between Morgan's neck and shoulder.

His pouted lips, swollen from Morgan's kisses, travelled lower. He took each of Morgan's nipples into his mouth in turn, teasing the soft flesh to make it stand out from his toned chest. Licking further down, Jeff tasted every inch of Morgan's abdomen, flicking his tongue over the ab muscles he found there, plating a trail of kisses down to his hips. Morgan lost his fingers in Jeff's hair, his eyes fluttering to closed as he felt his boyfriend's hot breath against his erection.

Gripping the base in his hand, Jeff slowly took the head into his mouth, sucking gently as his tongue travelled over and around it. Morgan moaned softly, his legs going tense at the heat pleasuring him. Jeff obliged even further, taking more of the length into his mouth. With each movement, Jeff took more and more of Morgan's hardness into his mouth, causing the singer to moan louder with each successive movement. The intense stroking motions of Jeff's mouth set a spark in Morgan's arousal. His breath came in short, sharp starts as Jeff took as much of the shaft down his throat as his gag reflex would allow. As he pulled his head back up, he increased the suction until it focused on the sensitive head. Morgan groaned, feeling his release building.

"Jeff…oh god…Jeff…I…" Releasing the erection from his mouth, Jeff kissed his way back up Morgan's body, his lips finding the pulse in Morgan's neck once more. Gently nipping at the singer's ear, Jeff's voice was a sultry low, growl.

"Turn around for me." Morgan shuddered at the command, slowly turning around in his boyfriend's embrace. Facing the wall, Morgan's braced his hands against the tiles, feeling Jeff's lips move across his shoulders blade. Morgan arched his back, so that he fit perfectly against Jeff's chest. Morgan could feel Jeff's swollen member pressing against the backs of his thighs, and ground his hips against him, hearing Jeff growl in his ear. "I want you baby…I want all of you…"

"I need you…now…make love to me Jeff…" Needing no more encouragement, Jeff gripped the base of his own erection, positioning himself against Morgan's tight entrance.

With the most gentle force, Jeff pressed himself forward, feeling resistance from the tight ring of muscle just inside Morgan's hidden entrance. Morgan was tight, and wasn't prepared to take Jeff inside. Adding a little more pressure, the lubrication of the soap allowed Jeff to enter Morgan a little more comfortably, but he still took as much care as he could. Morgan hissed his breath inwards, feeling the nerve endings scream in protest at the invasion into his body. Screwing his eyes shut, Morgan whimpered softly, as the heat of Jeff pushed further into him.

As some small mercy, Jeff was an experienced lover, and knew the discomfort Morgan would be in. Wrapping his arms around Morgan's body, he drew his lover closer, as he pushed a little deeper inside. The tight cocoon of muscle shot sensations around Morgan's body, causing him to moan out of pleasure and pain. Distracting Morgan with a deep kiss, Jeff gave one last effort, bucking his hips, pushing himself all the way inside the deep heat of Morgan's channel.

Jeff held himself still against Morgan, listening to his lover's breath come in and out, resuming a more normal rhythm. His mind was ablaze, feeling the exquisite burning tightness pulling at his erection. For his part, Morgan revelled in the feeling of Jeff's heartbeat against his back, all the while relaxing his muscles so the discomfort slowly ebbed away. Nipping at Morgan's shoulder, Jeff pulled backwards slowly, drawing a deep moan from Morgan. Jeff thrust back forward, feeling the muscles in the walls of Morgan's channel drawing him deeper. Jeff's breath came in ragged bursts, broken by lust and desire as he allowed himself to thrust over and over again.

"I love you so…much…" Jeff's voice was low whisper as his hands found their way to Morgan's chest, as his hips increased their rate, finding a comfortable rhythm for himself and Morgan. The water continued to pound from above as Jeff thrusted in and out of Morgan, his lips attacking every part of his lover's back that he could reach. Morgan groaned at the feeling of his lover inside him, pushing in and out of his body at an ecstatic rate, bucking his hips to match the thrusts.

Altering the angle of his hips, Jeff gripped Morgan's hardness inside his fist. Beginning a steady stroking rhythm, Hardy thrusted his own hardness forward in the new angle. Morgan yelped as Jeff's speared against the most pleasure-inducing spot inside his body. Morgan's vision became cloudy, his body limp against Jeff, as Hardy continued the sweet assault against his most sensitive spot, his stroking motion was relentless both inside and outside of the singer's body.

The sensation was too much for Morgan, his body tightening to explosion as Jeff speared him with more force. On the verge of screaming, Morgan gripped Jeff's legs as he lost himself on a crashing wave of pleasure. "Its okay baby," Jeff assuredly whispered, "just let yourself go. Give yourself to me."

Morgan could only groan in agreement, as the release crashed from the pit of his stomach through his entire body. Even as Morgan released, Jeff continued to stroke and thrust, drawing out the pleasure in his lover for as long as he possible could. Morgan's muscles tightened even more, squeezing Jeff so much that he could no longer hold back.

Readily falling over the edge, Jeff found himself screaming his lover's name as he released, emptying himself entirely. He continued to groan as he thrusted spasmodically, relaxing against Morgan's back as he did so. They held each other there, panting as their desires quietened inside them.

Being as gentle as he could, Jeff slowly pulled out of Morgan, guessing at how over stimulated his lover was. Jeff moaned gently as Jeff pulled out entirely, his leg buckling beneath him. In a second, Jeff caught him in his arms, cradling him in his arms. Resting his head against Hardy's chest, Morgan let his hands rest on his boyfriend's lower back. The pair stood in the shower, holding each other close as the water continued to fall.

"How do you feel?" Jeff's voice was lazy, his southern accent drawing out the vowels in the words. Morgan smiled softly, planting soft kisses over his chest.

"Complete." It was the only word Morgan felt that fitted. It was true. He had given himself to Jeff on the most basic level, and Jeff had given himself right back. Morgan had never experienced this before. It was the most amazing feeling he had ever experienced in his life, and he would never let it go.

"You wanna dry off?" Jeff suggested, already picture what he could do to Morgan in the confines of a towel. Morgan considered the words, before looking up into Jeff's eyes, leaving a trail of kisses over his neck and chin,

"Well, I haven't actually washed yet. And since I made sure you got nice and clean…" Morgan chuckled softly as Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"Allow me…" Jeff grinned, reaching for the shower gel, his lips meeting Morgan's in a passionate kiss. Despite the release a few moments earliest, Morgan could already feel the twitch of arousal. Losing himself in the feel of Jeff's patient hands, Morgan smiled softly to himself. _This was going to be good._


	17. Tell Me Love Isn't True

**_A/N:_ New Chapter! Hooray! Update! lol...I have to say, 'Hand On Your Heart' is probably my most favourite chapter that I've written ever. Thank you guys for the reviews, they mean so much. Vera, I feel I need to give you a special mention. In one of your reviews, you said something that made me nearly want to cry with sheer hapiness. In less than ten words you summed up Morgan. Thank you. Thank you so much for just 'getting' Morgan, and 'getting' me. You rock.**

**I disclaim! Please read and review. The end is in sight ladies and gentlemen...I figure we've got maybe five chapters left at the most? Vague disclaimer - This chapter contains _SEXUAL_ _CONTENT_. Just so we're all aware...**

* * *

"Morgan..? Are you okay?" Jeff Hardy's voice was slurred, cloaked in the thick, welcoming confines of sleep. Lifting his head from the pillow on which it had been resting, his sea green orbs blinked in rapid succession, attempting to get a better view of the room. Running a hand back through the myriad of colour staining his hair, Jeff pushed himself up into a seat position. The silk of the bed sheets caressed his naked thighs as they pooled around his lower body.

Across from the bed, dressed only in a pair of loose fitting boxer shorts, Morgan grinned warmly, leaving the pencil which had been held in his grip on the chest of drawers. Flipping closed the dog eared book in which he had been writing, Morgan stood up from the seat, and crossed the room to get closer to Jeff. Crawling onto the bed on his hands and knees, Morgan found his place inside the embrace of Jeff's arms. The southern wrestler crushed Morgan's more slender form against him, dropping backwards, bringing Morgan down with him.

Their lips met softly, gently caressing the soft pink mounds of one another. His hand reaching up, Morgan lost his fingers in the thick waves of Jeff's rainbow hair. Twisting several strands around his fingers, he was content to just lose himself in the hypnotising pools of green resting just a few inches ahead of him.

"Are you okay?" Jeff repeated. He was very much aware of what had happened between them only a few hours earlier. Their bodies had come together as one in the confines of the shower. Morgan had given himself to Jeff in the most basic of ways. And Jeff had received it willingly, giving as much of himself back in return. They had made love, for the first time, under a stream of warm water from the shower. From the bathroom, they had moved to the bedroom itself, before finally ending up in bed together. That had been at a little after 8am this morning.

It was now well after eleven, and Jeff was concerned. He had allowed himself to drift into a light slumber, assuming Morgan had gone under with him. Making a deduction from the scene before him, he guessed that Morgan had staid awake, and had been writing music in his note book. Apart from the emotional aspect of their coming together, there was the more practical physical side. Jeff had done his best to be as gentle as he could with Morgan, but he knew on more than one occasion his lust had overtaken his love, and he had lost himself inside Morgan.

With that memory, guilt took hold in Jeff's stomach. "I'm okay." Morgan assured, kissing the round of Jeff's chin. "A little bit sore, but nothing I can't deal with. Are you okay?" Jeff seemed to think about the question, before the unashamed smile spread across his lips.

"I feel total bliss," he confided, "I don't know how else to describe it. That was…amazing Morgan…" Jeff trailed off, sharing his memory of their love making with his lover.

"Yeah, it was…" Morgan agreed, losing himself in the thought of Jeff's naked body pressed up against his own. It was enough to break his previous conscious line of thought to the point where his faded away. A smile played over Jeff's lips as he registered the silence. Scooting over a little, he placed his naked hips between Morgan's parted thighs. From this vantage point, he had full access to Morgan's neck, trailing his lips burning lines up and down the expanse of flesh, feeling his lover moan and writhe beneath him. In a short space of time, Jeff had learned that Morgan's neck was his most sensitive area.

"What were you writing?" Resting his weight on his arms, Jeff contented himself by rubbing his nose against Morgan's in soft circular motions. The singer's lips creased in a care free chuckle, as his hands massaged at the back of Jeff's neck.

"Just a new song." Morgan explained, nipping at Jeff's bottom lips. Catching the pink flesh between his teeth, he took it into his mouth a slow sucking motion, forcing a moan out from Jeff. Closing his mouth over Morgan's, Jeff found himself grinding his hips between Morgan's thighs, feeling both their stirring arousals rubbing against his stomach.

"Is it about me?" Jeff whispered, as his tongue explored Morgan's neck, trailing further down to his chest.

"Maybe…" Morgan gasped, feeling the air forced from his lungs as Jeff began teasing his nipple, causing it to stand out from his chest in a heightened state of arousal. Grinning at the reaction he provoked Morgan, Jeff moved his mouth directly across his lover's chest, bearing his teeth to worry the other soft nub of flesh. Morgan whimpered at the sensation, sending a flow of hot, molten arousal around Jeff's body.

Gripping Morgan by his sides, Jeff rolled onto his back, bringing Morgan with so that he rested on top. It couldn't have gone better had Jeff planned it, with his growing erection straining against the curve of Morgan's bottom. Gripping Jeff's wrists in his hands, Morgan pinned them against the bed, burning his mouth against his lover's, their tongues engaged in a teasing battle of dominance. Jeff tried to get the upper hand, and felt as though he would. Morgan clearly had other ideas, and a fluid roll of his hips caused Jeff to arch upwards off the bed, his mouth parting into an aroused gasp. Morgan took his advantage, using Jeff's pleasure as a means to take control of the kiss.

Jeff found himself matching the rhythm of his lover's tongue, feeling his body come alive with sensation. Morgan's tongue was gentle, caressing in its approach as he explored every inch of Jeff's mouth, savouring the taste of his tongue and lips. Coming back up for air, Morgan's skin was flushed, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. Jeff looked up from below his lover, eyes hazy with lust. "You really want to go again? I game if you are…" Jeff flicked his tongue over his lips, considering the prospect of making love to his boyfriend again this morning.

"I do," Morgan grinned, "but I'm not sure if I can. Three releases this morning and I'm feeling a little spent, although I up for finding out if I can go for round four…" Jeff arched his back so that his head rose from the bed. At once his lips melted against Morgan's connecting them. It was like Jeff was addicted to Morgan. He could never be sated unless he was touching his lover. Morgan moaned slightly, breaking the kiss. "Wait, that's cheating," Morgan smiled, tracing his thumb over Jeff's bottom lip. "Didn't you say you were going training with the guys today?"

"I did?" Jeff pondered, eyes clouding over in thought.

"Yes. You said something about meeting them at the gym." Morgan clarified, relaxing his around Jeff's neck, pulling his boyfriend closer to his chest.

Realisation took the form of a spark in Jeff's eyes, as understanding flooded his features. "Shit. I am," judging Morgan's facial expression, Jeff was more than willing to change his plans for the day, "but I can stay here with you if you want?" Jeff offered, sucking at Morgan's neck, "I promise I'll be gentle."

The growl of the last few syllables sent a noticeable shiver down Morgan's spine. The sensation centred itself in the depth behind Morgan's hips. He could already feel himself tenting the material of his boxer shorts. They felt so tight he was sure his hardness would tear straight through the material. "I really want to say yes," Morgan whimpered as Jeff's hands slid into the back of his underwear, each palm gripping the round of Morgan's buttock. "But you promised your friends. Besides which, I have stuff to do today. I've got to meet with a few stage directors and conceptual artists for my tour. The label is really riding my ass about it."

"Ignore them. Let me ride your ass instead." Jeff's hands slid around from the back of Morgan's underwear to the front. Nudging at the front of the boxer shorts with his wrist, Jeff pushed them down far enough to release Morgan's hardness. Gripping the swollen shaft in his palm, Jeff began a torturously slow stroking movement, beginning at the base. The caress of his palm travelled the entire length, before gliding across the sensitive head. Morgan's body convulsed slightly at the sensation, causing Jeff to curve his other hand around his lover's waist, drawing his body closer.

His head resting on Jeff's shoulder, Morgan's hands clawed for some kind of grip at sanity across the muscles in Jeff's back. Morgan's breath came out in slow gasps, as Jeff's stroking increased in intensity. The pace was quicker, the motions fluid as Jeff tightened his grip. The stroking was relentless, pushing Morgan into the waiting embrace of euphoria. Groaning at the fire sparking in the pit of his stomach, Morgan finally lost control at Jeff's growled whisper next to his ear. "I want you to come for me baby…"

Morgan groaned a long, extended sound of ecstasy. His release built, crashing through his veins, before pushing itself upwards and outwards. Morgan's back arched as he came, with Jeff's other hand being the only thing keeping him from tumbling backwards. Jeff, in return, growled in excitement as he felt the searing hot release shower over his abdomen.

Jeff continued the stroking movement, slowing down the pace to gently bring Morgan down from his high. The singer final got a grasp of his senses, and resumed eye contact with Jeff. His cheeks were flushed, eyes glazed over with his blissful release. They were however, astute enough to notice Jeff's erection standing tall from his hips. Looking down at Jeff's member, Morgan raised his eyes once more, with an arched eyebrow. "I guess I should do something about that…"

* * *

Jeff's rainbow coloured hair didn't go unnoticed as he scurried into the gym. From across the room, John Cena's crystal blue eyes darted to the appearance of Hardy, following the North Carolina native has he darted across the room. Gripping the handle of weight a little harder, John couldn't help but let his face drop into scowl. Across the room from him, was the reason why Morgan had left him so very alone. That artistic, emotional mystery that was Jeff Hardy, had been in some way more appealing to Morgan. He couldn't hate Jeff. No, if John was being honest, Jeff Hardy was one of the most honest and decent people he had ever met in his life. He considered the guy to be his friend. But the relationship with Morgan just made things difficult. Not that Jeff Hardy was clued up about it at all.

Despite his protestations that he had made himself strong, and that he had moved on from the relationship with the singer that never was, John couldn't help but feel the sting of regret. What Jeff didn't know couldn't hurt him, but it was still soul destroying to John.

Watching as Jeff removed his jacket, John's ever searching eyes noticed the set of beads on Jeff's wrist. Instantly, Cena recognised them to be Morgan's. As John re-called, he had picked them up in a market just outside Albuquerque, saying it was the only worth while thing he had gotten from the trip.

Refusing to give into self loathing and yet more questions, John returned his focus back to the weights he had been lifting. If he just focused on that, he could remain impassive and unaffected by thoughts of Morgan Lee. As luck would have it however, Jeff wanted to talk.

"John, dude where have you been hiding? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages." Jeff pulled Cena into a man hug, patting his friend heartedly on the back as he did so. Despite his feelings, John suppressed a shudder. Inside John's head, a small voice gnawed at him, whispering dreadful secrets about the things this body next to him had done to Morgan. Quelling the urge to ram his fist into Jeff's face, John briefly made a show of returning the gesture of the hug. Pulling back just as quickly, John return to his weights, desperate to regain some kind of handle over his raging emotions.

"I've been around," John lied. He had done everything he possible to keep a permanent distance away from himself and Jeff Hardy. "And I've been bust with wedding plans. Ashley's kinda gotten psychotic about the whole thing. It's a little scary."

Trying to remain as friendly as possible, John could already feel the muscle tensing in his jaw. It was no secret he and Ashley were engaged, his soon-to-be wife had seen to that. She had 'accidentally' let it slip at a press conference, sending the wrestling world into a near frenzy. John had felt utterly overwhelmed with the attention, wanting to hide away until the furore had passed. What he couldn't seem to get past was the fact he had actually been worried about Morgan finding out he had gotten engaged.

The truth of the matter was, John was hiding himself behind Ashley. He was hoping that if he threw himself into planning the wedding, maybe his feelings for Morgan would dull, and his love for Ashley would re-assert itself. He had only been partly successful in his objectives. John's feelings for Morgan had diminished, but they were still there. John was beginning to understand that they possible always would be. His love for Morgan was restricted to that one man alone. John hadn't been struck by some kind of epiphany that he was gay, far from it. The idea terrified him. But damn him if he didn't love Morgan. The most he could hope to do now was bury those feeling somewhere where they couldn't hurt him anymore. Little reminders of what he could have had didn't help John's campaign whatsoever.

And then there was Ashley. John loved that girl…once. But there was a part of him that could never forgive her for what she had done. John had fully intended on taking Ashley aside, and telling her they just weren't ever going to have what they once had, but her mouth had nixed that idea. Now, caught up in the wave of wedding plans, John had no chance to be honest with her. And he wasn't even sure if he wanted that.

John was honestly starting to wonder if he had developed a multi-personality disorder. He wanted to break things off with Ashley, and yet he wanted to go through with marriage to push away the feelings he had for Morgan. What one part of him wanted, the other half was trying to run away from. And somehow, John Cena knew this whole emotional mess led back to Morgan Lee.

"That's cool man. But it's great to hang out with you now." Jeff grinned genuinely at his friend. He had honestly missed hanging out with his friend, and would take any opportunity to rectify the distance that had grown between them. Stepping into position at John's side, Jeff began to stretch himself out, placing his left leg out straight as he squatted down onto his right leg, before alternating.

John tried not to focus on Jeff, constantly reminding himself that it wasn't his fault. Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out over his lips, giving voice to the question John had never dared to say aloud in the past six months of heartbreaking loneliness. "How's Morgan?" _Nice attempt at casual, moron._

Jeff stopped his exercise to face John head on, a glowing smile curving his lips into a smile. "He's really good. His new album has really taken off, and he's starting to get the respect from critics that he deserves." John nodded his head, feigning a smile, which in reality made his blood run cold. "He misses you, y'know."

"What?" Cena couldn't stop the note of panic creeping into his voice. Did Jeff know? Had Morgan told him the truth? Was John about to get his face smacked three ways from Sunday?

"Morgan, he misses hanging out with you," Jeff explained, snatching at one of the weights resting against the near wall. "I know you guys are friends, and that you don't have the chance to talk as much as you used to. Careers suck right? But he's always asking after you, checking how you're doing. He likes you a lot man."

_Not enough though, _John mused. "Yeah…I miss him too."

"Good," Jeff smiled, "then you'll be happy to know that he's in town at the moment. I'm sure he'd love to see you."

"Morgan? He's in town?" _Way to sound like an over-excited school girl Cena._

"Yeah," Jeff chuckled, picking up on John's enthusiasm. "We're staying Cruz hotel. Listen, there's something I really want to tell you. You're a good friend to Morgan, so you should be the first to hear it." A growing sense of dread unfolded in the pit of John's stomach as he waited in baited breath. "I asked Morgan to marry me…and he said yes. We're in engaged."

Jeff positively gushed with his news, pulling John back into a celebratory hug. John feebly reciprocated, all the while feeling as though he was about to loose the entire contents of his stomach. Engaged? Morgan was engaged to Jeff? If there was other news that John had secretly dreaded more than this, he would have been surprised. Suddenly understanding what the saying 'having the rug pulled out from underneath you' meant, John literally had a problem staying upright. In one shot sentence, the bottom of his entire world had been torn out from beneath him.

"We're having an engagement party this Friday in that club Revolution? Say you'll be there? I know it would mean the world to Morgan to have you there to celebrate with us." John vaguely nodded his head, as the breath felt like it was been torn from the confines of his lungs. "Awesome man. Listen, I'm going to tell Adam and Randy the news. I'll catch up with you later?"

Not waiting for a reply, Jeff jogged off across the gym to the running machines, where Adam Copeland and Randy Orton were currently engaged in a running marathon, to see who would collapse first from exertion.

Engaged? This could not be happening. Everything John had been preparing for, everything he had tried to harden his heart too, and he was confronted with _this. _If he didn't know better, John would have sworn his heart had been crushed inside his own chest. The one man he had fallen in love with, was about to give himself to someone else. This was not okay.

And what made it worse, was that John was expected to join the happy couple in their engagement. How could he do that? How he could he take part in the activities as though he were glad Morgan was marrying someone else? And by the same token, how could he not and risk breaking the heart of one of his closest friends by being honest about his relationship with Morgan Lee?

Sinking down to a seated position, a million and one heart wrenching thoughts clouded John's mind. The most salient?

_How am I going to get through this?_


	18. I Deserve It

**_A/N: _Update. Okay, so I've hit a bit of a creative stride with Confide In Me. I can just see the final chapters, all laid out in front of me. So, to that end, here is a new chapter for your enjoyment. And does John lay it on Morgan. I'm kinda proud of John in this chapter, because he does something he's never done before in this stoy. He's honest with the person he loves. Beautiful stuff hehe. I suppose I should let you lovely, lovely people be the judge of that. Leave me a review and tell me what you think? As ever, I disclaim!**

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_I am so late. I am so totally late._

No sooner had the limousine stopped, then had Morgan Lee flung himself out the door. Shrugging his jacket up and over his shoulders as he moved, his feet thundered against the black tarmac as he made his way across the back lot of the arena, eyes careening from each side to make sure no other automobiles were coming his way.

Coming up towards the entrance, he redoubled his efforts to move faster. Digging his hand into his pocket, his fingers gripping around the laminated 'VIP' pass hidden there. Waving it wildly to the team of security guards patrolling the back entrance, Morgan was allowed to pass through without incident.

Checking his watch to make himself more up to speed with the current time, his eyes bulged as they registered the position of the hands. He had less than three minutes to get himself to where he needed to be before the show kicked off. Mentally running through the directions his boyfriend had left for him, Morgan began twisting and turning as he navigated the sparse corridors of the arena.

Several wrestlers and backstage hands greeted him as he sped past, but Morgan made no such effort to reciprocate. He didn't have the intention of being rude by any means, but he was so focused on making his way to Jeff's locker room that he didn't have the wherewithal to be as polite as he knew he should. _I'll make it up to them later_ he silently mused, nearly becoming facially acquainted with a nearby storage box.

Slowly Morgan came to a halt, his head twisting in all directions. _Was it a left after the second right, or straight on to the next bend?_ Stamping his foot in frustration, Morgan ran through the directions over and over again his mind, each time becoming stumped at the same point. Jogging lightly into the left hand corridor, he looked for any sign of life. The lighting was considerably dimmer in that direction, and the corridors were overstocked with boxes and other hold-alls for electrical equipment. Chewing on his bottom lip, Morgan nodded his head, resolving to head down the straight path and then take the next left.

He had made it almost to the end of the corridor, when a pair of strong hands roughly grabbed him. Taking him by surprise, Morgan yelped as he felt himself torn to the side, his body going limp in the grasp of another. Stumbling forward into the room, Morgan landed on the near-by wooden bench, groaning at the impact. Vaguely aware of a door slamming shut behind him, Morgan span on his heel into a seated position, so he became face to face with his abductor.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Eyes narrowed into an accusatory glare, Morgan stomped across the room, fist clenched at this sides. Barely an arms length from his would-be captor, and he felt those same powerful arms rest on his shoulders, keeping him at a safe distance. Glaring up into the steely blue orbs, Morgan felt anger flare in the pit of his chest. _Who the hell did John Cena think he was?_

"Are you?" John countered, releasing his grip on Morgan's shoulders. It was a reluctant move. Just feeling the curve of Morgan's taut shoulders beneath the tips of his fingers sent his pulse racing. How could one person, a guy even, have such an effect on him? "You're marrying him?"

Morgan felt lost for words. Who was John to be questioning Morgan's decisions anyway? "How is that any of your business? And why the hell did you grab me?"

"Would you have talked me otherwise? Honestly?" At Morgan's nervous expression, John knew he had his answer. In some ways, he wished that he hadn't asked the question in the first place. "I thought as much. Why are you doing it? Why are you marrying Jeff?"

"How dare you," Morgan spat, eyes blazing with muted fury. "How dare you haul me in here and start probing me for reasons for marrying my boyfriend. You're insane John. Now get out of my way!"

Morgan stepped forward, heading directly for the door to John's locker room. Despite his large build, John was very swift on his feet. Twisting on his leg, he was at the door before Morgan could reach it. Gripping the key already hanging in the door, John twisted it completely clockwise, before withdrawing it out of the door completely. Morgan, taken back not only by John's swift move - but also the fact that this door actually had a key - was left in a dumbfounded stillness. To make matters worse, John gripped the waist of his cut off denim shorts, thumbing the exposed part of his underwear. Pulling both garments free of his body, John dropped the key down into a far more _interesting_ area than a pocket.

"No," John sated simply, his tone calm but commanding. "You are not walking out on me again - no until we talk about this Morgan. I can't keep going on like this. I can't keep living with all this…this hurt…" It was the most eloquent expression of what lay in the hidden depths of his heart, but it was as honest as John felt he could be with some who had broken his heart, without endangering his own well being again.

Growling in sheer frustration, Morgan turned his back to John, stomping around the locker as both arms flailed until the air. Spinning on his heel to face John again, his face held a more altogether accusatory expression than before. His finger jabbed harshly into the air, aimed at John's chest. "You…you were the one who walked out on me remember? I came to you that day in the airport to talk, to try and sort whatever this is between us. And you…you walked out on me! You turned your fucking back on me, and never even looked back."

"So I handled the situation badly," John confessed, "how would you feel? The person you love with every part of your being tells you that they don't love you back, that what you feel isn't real. You crushed me Morgan, and I flipped. I'm sorry I flipped out so bad, but I couldn't help it. But that was then, and I want to talk. Now."

"I'm not going to go through this again with you John," Morgan started, radiating defiance. "You do not love me, you just can't okay? You need to stop -…"

"If you try and tell me again that I don't know what I feel or that I don't love you," John interrupted, his own eyes blazing with emotion, "I will smack the shit out of you. I love you Morgan. Just deal with it okay? I've finally managed to come to terms with my feelings. I wouldn't be here with you if I didn't. I just don't understand why you can't to the same. Why are you marrying Jeff? Why are you doing this to me?"

"What the hell has me marrying Jeff got to do with you?" Morgan fought back, eyes rolling with incredulity. "My relationship with Jeff has absolutely nothing to do with you."

"Are you sure Morgan? Because it looks to me as if you're hiding your feelings for me behind Jeff Hardy." John easily surmised his thoughts on the relationship between Morgan and Jeff. "He's safe, and he loves you. I get that Morgan, I do, because I've been trying to do the same thing with Ashley. But now…I'm sick of pretending…I'm sick of trying to bury my emotions."

"Don't you tell me what I do and don't feel for my boyfriend. I love Jeff. Why is that so hard for you to grasp?" Morgan found himself backing slowly across the room as John was inching ever closer towards him.

"What about me? What about the night we spent together Morgan? Are you really going to stand there and tell me it meant nothing?" John stuffed his hands into his pockets. This was going the way he had wanted it to. Morgan was still fighting him every step of the way on this. But John knew if he didn't at least try and get everything out in the open now, he probably would never have the chance to again.

"It was just sex John! Why can't you see that? Why do you have to try and make it into some big, grand expression of devotion? It was a good time, and nothing more." Morgan felt like he sounded as though he were pleading his case with John. Was he actually trying to convince himself?

"That's bullshit Morgan," John stated with absolute clarity, "I know you well enough to know that it couldn't ever be just sex. Not for you. You don't work that way. Everything is based on emotion, you think and feel with your heart. It's why you get hurt so easily, because you give so much of yourself to everyone in your life. We made love because you felt for me what I feel for you. Stand there and tell I'm wrong if it makes you feel better. But I know the truth. I what we both feel is real, even if you can't admit it to yourself."

"Why are you doing this John?" Morgan pleaded, feeling his defences crumbling faster that he could build a wall around his heart. This couldn't be happening. Morgan loved Jeff. He knew it was true. "Why can't you just let me be happy? Jeff is a great guy, and he loves me. Why won't you let me have this?"

"Because I love you," John exclaimed, partly shocked he had to re-iterate his emotions again. "I let you convince me otherwise before, but I'm stronger now. And I'm not going to let you carry on lying to yourself, or to me."

Shaking his head, John couldn't help the slight exasperation creeping into his voice. "Do you have any idea how hard this has been for me? I've been raised and work in a testosterone driven environment, where being gay means being less than a man. All I've ever known is girls. But you came along, and everything changed,"

John relaxed his shoulders, trying to appear as non-threatening as he possibly could. "You make me feel things I can't put into words. It scares the crap out of me, and sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be comfortable with it. But I want to try, because that's what it'll take for me to be with you."

John had stepped closer to Morgan. With the singer's back against the wall, he had nowhere to go. "I know you care about Jeff, and I'm sorry to do this to him, but I can't just let you drift out of my life as if we never were. I love you. Maybe this is selfish of me and right now I don't care. But I'm putting my own happiness above that of anyone else's."

"It doesn't matter…"Morgan stammered. John's handsome face was pressing down towards his own. If being in the same room as John put his head in a spin, being this close to him was making Morgan crazy. He couldn't think straight, he couldn't feel anything…anything but John. It was petrifying. It was exciting. It was confusing. "…I've made my choice. I'm choosing Jeff. He loves me. There's nothing you can say that will change that for me."

"You know that's not true," John stated, a soft smile curving his lips. "I've finally figured out what you've been going through. I was wrong when I said you terrified of commitment. It's the complete opposite. You just want someone to love you back Morgan." Morgan's eyes blinked, as if he registered the impact of the words. "You put so much love out into the world, and get so little back in return. It's made you scared of people, scared of real love, so much so that you've closed your eyes to it, you run from it and find reasons why it shouldn't be. All you've experienced is love destroying people's lives. You just want to protect your heart from anymore hurt, and no-one can you blame you for that." John licked his lips softly. All he wanted to do was to take Morgan into his arms. If he could just hold him close and whisper into his hair, he knew that things would be right between them. But John couldn't rush this. It was too important to him.

"I don't know what you've gone through in your past Morgan. I don't know what hurt you've faced, how many times you've had your heart broken, or what's happened to make your heart slowly turn to stone. But I want you to know that you don't have to be afraid anymore. You took a chance on me. You opened your heart to real love, and it really did give itself to you. I know things got messy with Ashley, but I swear to you there's nothing there between me and her anymore. You have to know that I'm serious when I tell you I love you. I have…since the very first time that I met you, and I promise you I will never, ever hurt you. I couldn't."

Morgan's eyes blinked in rapid succession. John could see the tears building beneath the surface. The last thing he wanted was to make him cry, but he had to get this out whilst he still had a voice. "I'm telling you I'm here Morgan, and I'm not going to run away. I love you with all of my heart, and I always will. I don't know how good a boyfriend I will be. I don't know how to be with another man. But I want you to show me. I will do whatever it takes for me to be with you, because you are worth more to me than anything else in my life."

Morgan's lip trembled gently at the power of John's words. He couldn't hold the tears back even if he wanted to. "I'm here Morgan. I'm standing here right in front of you, telling you that I love you, that I want to be with you, just like you want to be with me. This is what you wanted. You just have to let yourself be happy. You have to be so tired of hiding now. Please, just let yourself feel love. Even if it's not with me. I could never forgive myself if I thought you gave up on the chance for real love because of something I'd done."

Morgan sobbed softly, as the tears fell freely from his eyes. John caught the first few drop with his thumbs, brushing them away with as much care as he could. "Please…stop…I can't feel this…you can't love me…I don't deserve it…"

"You listen to me Morgan," John started, feeling his throat tighten with emotion. "If you don't want me after this, I can deal with that. If you think that real love is with Jeff, then I won't stand in your way. But you need to promise me one thing. When you know you've found real love, don't give up on it, don't run and hide behind someone because they're safe. Don't ever feel like you don't deserve love Morgan. If anyone does in this world, it's you…"

Morgan eyes sealed closed to the wave of emotion taking over from the inside. John shook his head softly, feel tears sting at his own eyes. Maybe this had been a mistake. Maybe Morgan hadn't been ready for this, and he had pushed him too far too soon. John guessed he would never have the chance to know. Reaching his hand into his underwear, his fingers gripped the smooth surface of the key. Pulling it free, he moved to hand it over to Morgan, but was never given the chance. In an instant, he felt Morgan's mouth on his. The insistent burn of his lips forced themselves against John's his tongue pleading entrance into the wrestler's mouth.

This kiss was everything that Morgan couldn't bring himself to say. In the course of one conversation, John had broken through every defence, every wall he had ever built himself to protect his heart against the agony of more hurt. Morgan had honestly though he couldn't take any more pain, but John had just eased his way into the centre of his heart. Morgan could never hope to explain his. But he could show it.

Cena instantly obliged, parting his lips to allow Morgan's tongue to slide through his own lips. He groaned as he tasted the sweetness of Morgan's mouth, the feel of his tongue exploring the inside of Morgan's mouth. Deepening the kiss, Morgan's hands clawed at the back of John's neck, melting their mouths together. Lost on the heady wave of passion, John gripped his on Morgan's waist, drawing his body closer to his own. Their lips seemed to fit together perfectly, complementing each other's as they shared a feeling of love.

"I love you…I love you so much," John moaned, moving the caress of his lips to the exposed flesh at Morgan's neck. "I just want to be with you. Please. Please don't marry Jeff." In an instant, Morgan's eyes flew open. Gripping John's shoulder, he shoved him back with everything he could. Panting wildly, Morgan held a hand to his chest, eyes trained on John's confused expression.

"I can't do this John. I just can't love you like you want me too. I don't have it in me," saying the words were crushing Morgan's heart as much as they were breaking John's. Morgan didn't know if he could feel for John what he wanted, but more than that, he couldn't do this to Jeff. However much he felt for John, it would never be enough to negate the connection Morgan felt to Jeff.

"No Morgan. You love me. I know you do. You're just too afraid to let me love you back." John's eyes clouded with hurt. He had come so close to being with Morgan, to at least helping the singer get in touch with his true emotions.

Snatching the key which had fallen to the floor, Morgan headed directly for the door. He had it unlocked in an instant. "I'm begging you John…please…just leave me alone…"

Without a final glance, Morgan left the room, tearing down the hallway to get as far away from John as he could. His head was swimming with emotion and feelings. This couldn't be happening, not now. Morgan had tried so hard to give everything of himself to Jeff. But he realised now, that there was just one part of him that was always going to want John. It was something he was going to have to learn to live with.

_Why are you doing this to yourself Morgan? Why are you running away? _Morgan stopped mid run, resting his back against the wall for support.

_Because I'm afraid. I'm afraid to love John. And I don't want him to love me back. _Without warning, Morgan's legs gave way beneath him. In an instant, he had sunk to his knees, his head buried in his hands.

Morgan honestly didn't know anymore. He had spent so long protecting his heart, he could no longer feel love from anyone. Had he really confused things so much with Jeff? Was he trying to hide his feelings for John behind a safety net that was his relationship with Jeff? Was that fair to any of them? Why did all of this have to be so confusing?

Lost in his own thought muddle tears, Morgan became aware of commotion up ahead. Raising his head, both oceanic blue eyes widened as the curtain parted up again. Strapped onto an orange stretcher was the man Morgan was engaged to. And he didn't look well. His face was contorted into pain, eyes screwed tightly shut as his back arched up from the plastic base he was held to. As if acting on autopilot, Morgan got up from his knees, and was chasing after the medical team.

Fighting his way into the trainer's room, Morgan was relieved to see Jeff's eyes opened, but his face was clearly still pained. Morgan was at his side in an instant, pushing aside several trainers to take Jeff's hand in his own.

"Morgan…" Jeff slurred gently, clearly the effects of pain and a considerable amount of pain medication. "I think…that I'm broken…I need you to fix me…" Jeff's eyes fluttered for a second, before finally sliding to a close.

Without meaning to, Morgan found himself backing into the corner of the room, leaving Jeff's bedside. His back connecting with the wall seemed to startle the young singer, his eyes never leaving the slumber face of Jeff. If Morgan had had a decision to make, it would have to wait. Jeff needed him now more than ever. Everything else could wait. It would wait.

As was the overriding factor in Morgan's life, someone else would have to come first.


	19. Take A Look At Me Now

**_A/N: Update. _New Chapter for your reading pleasure. We're coming closer to the end now. What a ride it's been. I've been wanting to write this chapter for a while, so I really hope you guys enjoy it. Please, please, please, PLEASE read and review. I guess with this chapter, it kinda demonstrates the theory that sometimes all it takes is an outside perspective to make you see things clearly.**

**Anyways, please R&R, I disclaim! Lyrics are taken from 'Take a Look At Me Now' by Phil Collins.**_

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_"How can I just let you walk away, just let you leave without a trace? When I stand here taking every breath with you .You're the only one who really knew me at all…"_

Allowing his hand to tighten the grip on the microphone, Morgan scrunched up his nose slightly. Bringing up his free hand, he touched his middle finger to his ear, trying to adjust the ear pierce providing playback into his ear. It was clear from his expression that the device wasn't working. More than a little frustrate, he removed it complete from his ear, allowing the clear plastic to hang freely down from his neck.

_"How can you just walk away from me, when all I can do is watch you leave? 'Cause we've shared the laughter and the pain, and even shared the tears. You're the only one who really knew me at all…"_

Grimacing at the high pitched wail scraping from the speakers, Morgan retrieved the microphone from the stand it was placed in, trying to put some distance from himself from the speakers near the front of the stage. It seemed, however, no matter where he went on the empty staging, the feedback was getting progressively worse. As the sound escalated even further, Morgan could no longer even hear the echo of his voice in the empty arena, simply the all consuming whine of the feedback. Growling in sheer disgusted frustration, Morgan barked his order into the microphone.

"Cut the damn song…stop the fuckin' playback. I can hear a fucking thing over this feedback." Glaring past the edge of the staging to the technicians, Morgan lowered the microphone his lips. The band on the back of the stage seemingly followed the artist's order, each instrument fading into oblivion as the band looked nervously across the stage to one another.

Hands resting on his hips, Morgan marched to the edge of the staging, shielding his eyes from the glare of the lights which were being tested above. "Jerry, you want to tell me why my headset isn't working?" Behind several rows of seats, almost halfway onto the main floor of the arena, busy worker ants that were the technicians scurried around, nearly tripping over themselves as they tried to solve the problem. Jerry, a greying man in his late 50s was the Director of Sound for Morgan's Tour. He was situated in his usual position, behind the large sound desk.

From the distance he was at, Morgan could see Jerry talking animatedly with an assistant. Looking up from his conversation, Jerry attempted to answer Morgan, but without the aid of a microphone, his voice was lost to the singer in the vastness of the empty arena.

Not in the frame of mind to simply let this slide, Morgan hoped down from the staging to the floor, leaving the microphone resting on the stage. Stalking over the floor, the bemused singer tore at his headset, trying to free himself of the wires and the pack attached to his waist. With everything else going on in his life at the moment, the very last thing he needed were technical glitches on his first large scale arena tour.

"Well?" Morgan barked, stepping up onto the staging to face the sound director.

"I don't know Morgan," Jerry admitted, "I can't explain why you're losing the feed in your ears."

"Shannon and Kimberley seem okay," Morgan pointed out, gesturing behind him to the stage where his two backing singers were flirting the lead guitarist, "why am I losing sound and they're fine?"

"I don't know Morgan," Jerry stressed again, holding his hands up in defeat, "there might be black spots up on the stage where we're losing signal. Maybe because the girls on a different frequency they're not affected. We haven't had time to check for…"

Jerry found himself cut off, as Morgan barged in. "Well maybe you should put me on their fucking frequency, because I can't sing if I can't hear myself." Growing visibly agitated, Morgan raked his hands back through his hair. He wasn't done yet. "And what the fuck is with all the feedback? It's deafening."

"I'm not sure…we didn't have time to check to see if…"

"What the hell are they paying you for?" Morgan interrupted. "I'm serious. 'I don't know' and 'I'm not sure' are not answers. Do you even realise how important this tour is?" Morgan could hear the patronising inflection in his own voice, but it didn't stop him from condescending the older man. "This is my very first arena tour Jerry! Twelve and a half thousand people have paid a lot of money to come and see me tomorrow night, and all they are gonna get is deafened by feedback and a pissed of British guy who can't hear himself sing. Sort it, the fuck out Jerry, or I won't go on stage."

Turning his back on a flabbergasted Jerry, Morgan's eyes spied the large video screen hanging as the backdrop to the stage. The image was of the three candles, each at different heights, burning consistently against a smoky blue background. In the middle of display, were several Chinese inscriptions, each at varying sizes and different lengths. Morgan could feel his pulse racing wildly as his eyes narrowed on the image before him, utterly disgusted at what he saw.

"Carrie!" he screeched, reaching the levels of near hysteria. "CARRIE!" From the corner of his eyes, Morgan spotted the plump brunette woman scurrying across the floor. Awkwardly making her way to the sound desk, she appeared red in the face as she nervously adjusted the glasses on the bridge of her nose. Registering Morgan's near psychotic expression, her nerves fluttered like butterflies in the pit of her stomach. She smiled weakly, doing nothing to appease the singer.

"Would you care…to explain to me…what the hell that is on the screen?" Morgan's hand pointed accusingly at the large display screen at the back of the stage. In some respects, Carrie wished Morgan had exploded and shouted at her. Anything would be better than this cold, almost sneering voice.

"Uh…it's what we talked about M-Morgan…the backing for 'Against All Odds'..?" Morgan still didn't seem impressed, causing Carrie to fumble nervously with her hands. "I brought you the designs, for the backing..? You said you were interested in the idea…o-of the Chinese w-writing..?" Morgan's expression gave Carrie nothing. If at all possible, she felt as though her stomach were about to drop into her feet.

"I said I was interested," Morgan started through gritted teeth, "I never said I approved. What does that even say?" Narrowing his oceanic blue eyes, Morgan eyeballed Carrie in an almost threatening way.

"I-I'm not to sure Morgan…that is to say…I don't know…I just 'Googled' for Chinese writing…I-I didn't look into what it actually meant…" Feeling as though she were stood in the dock, Carrie honestly thought she had said something to compound her guilt. Morgan's nostrils flared rapidly, as his jaw line tightened to the point of pain. Tears pooled in the back of her eyes, as she prepared for the tongue lashing she felt she was in store for her. Part of Carrie felt pathetic. She was a 40 year old woman, and she was about to cry from a telling off from a twenty year old.

"You don't know…what it says…" Morgan reiterated, clenching his fists at either sides. "So, that writing could say 'Fuck off you motherfuckers', and you would be okay with that." Morgan jibbed, sneering coldly at Carrie. "Of course, in the happy world according to Carrie, it doesn't matter that we could be offending any number of the audience, because Carrie didn't think it was important to look into what the writing actually fucking meant! Jesus, are you fucking retarded or something?"

Throwing his hands up in frustration, Morgan rolled his eyes to the sky. Why was he cursed to work the biggest bunch of backward, inbred idiots ever created? Dropping his gaze back to eye level, he noted Carrie sniffing slightly as she dabbed at the tears tumbling over her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. "What are you crying for?"

Morgan's question caught Carrie off guard. She wasn't sure why she was crying really. Yes, she was a sensitive woman, but shouldn't she have a better grip of her own emotions? "I'm sorry Morgan…I'm not too sure why…"

"Again with people not being too sure. You know what I think?" Morgan began, his lip curling back to deliver yet more belittling criticism. "I think that you should go and get the fuck-…"

Morgan found himself cut off mid sentence. Some unknown force from behind grabbed him by his waist, gripping another hand around the wrist of the hand pointing accusingly in Carrie's face. Spluttering incredulously, Morgan found himself being led away from the sound desk and towards the backstage area. Pushed out into the adjoining corridor, Morgan roughly fought free of the hold on him, and turned to face whoever it was had grabbed him in the place.

"Elsie? What the fuck do you think you are doing?" Morgan bellowed, standing onto the tip of his toes as he leered towards his manager.

"Less of the language if you please," Elsie countered, clearly not amused with Morgan's tone, "and I'm stopping you from belittling members of your technical crew. You were a complete dick to Jerry and an unbelievable bully to Carrie. Morgan, I'm surprised at you. She did not deserve any of that at all."

Morgan's eyes bulged at what he perceived to be Elsie's interference. "If any of the cretins out there could do their job properly, I wouldn't be so wound up! They're not paid to sit around all day Else, and tell me they don't know what's wrong! They're paid to do a job, and do it properly. So what if I blew up at a few of them? Maybe what they need is a good kick in the ass to get them back focused on what they're supposed to be doing."

"You were not helping Morgan, or being constructive" Elsie growled, rapidly losing her patience with the petulant singer, "you were being a complete diva. I don't care who you think you are, or why you suddenly think you're better than everyone else, but I am telling you straight. You will not bully or be so down right cruel to any member of the technical staff in future? Am I clear?"

Morgan's silence spoke volumes, his eyes burning in silent anger. "Whatever you think about them being paid to do a job, not a single person out there is paid to listen or be subjected to the rants of a pre-menstrual singer. You will not speak to anyone of the crew like that again, am I clear Morgan?"

Morgan folded his arms across his chest with a huff, pouting out his bottom lip. Who did this woman think she was? There was no way he would be spoken to like this, especially not by someone who was paid to do what they were told by him.

"What has gotten into you Morgan?" Elsie added, her voice softening slightly. "This…this attitude is not you at all. The Morgan Lee I know would never even dream of speaking to his technical crew like that. The Morgan Lee I know bought every member of the crew a glass trophy at the end of his last tour to celebrate their shared achievement. He certainly never exploded at someone just because there was a problem with sound, or he didn't like what was on a backing screen."

Morgan's expression softly under the lecture, obviously realising that Elsie was right in her estimation. "And the Morgan Lee I know wouldn't have forgotten that it wasn't so long ago that we didn't have the money or the backing to put on a tour like on a grand scale like this. It's because of the hard work of people like Jerry and Carrie that the 'diva' that is Morgan Lee is able to put on arena tour. I suggest you think about the next time you feel like taking out your anger on some poor woman who's husband is in hospital with pneumonia because you have a petty issue with what's written on a stupid screen."

Slapping the palm of his hand against his forehead, Morgan groaned with guilt. He crossed the line and had complete forgotten what was going on with Carrie in her personal life at the moment. Turning back to the main arena, his oceanic blue eyes stared out through the double doors. "I should go and apologise…"

Morgan started to move, but Elsie stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "No. I think you need time to cool down." As Morgan began to squeak his protest, Elsie held up a hand to silence him completely. "Besides. There's someone waiting in your dressing room to see you. Deal with your business Morgan, and the check your ego at the door before you even think about setting foot back in that arena."

Leaning forward, Elsie planted a quick kiss on the stationary Morgan's forehead. Turning, she began marching back towards the main arena, fully intent on performing a little damage control for the angered technical workers.

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, Morgan remained for a second to watch Elsie leave. Slowly, he turned and began to trudge his way down the corridor towards his dressing room.

It was the worst feeling in the world. Guilt was probably the most hated feeling by Morgan, and oddly was the one he seemed to carry around with him the most. He hadn't meant anything of what he had said to Carrie or Jerry. Or course he hadn't. They would know that, wouldn't they? Morgan was just lost in his own emotions. He couldn't cope with his own feelings at the best of times, but being stuck in such a difficult situation with two men that he had feelings for, was grinding him down to the point of defeat.

When had everything become so complicated? It wasn't supposed to be this way surely. You were supposed to love one person, and one person only. You were supposed to promise yourself to that person, and spend the rest of your life with them. You weren't supposed to have such feelings for two people. Morgan couldn't understand what he was doing. He loved Jeff. That much was true, and couldn't be changed by anyone - not even John Cena.

But there was the issue of John. Morgan had done his best to sort through his feelings for John, and had found himself more confused than ever. He loved John.

How is that possible? How can you love two people?

Maybe Morgan was deluding himself. Maybe he was doing what he accused John of doing all those months ago - latching onto someone and pretending that it was love, just because they made you feel good about yourself. No. That couldn't be right. Morgan had 'felt' something for John before he had even begun dating Jeff. He just hadn't realised it at the time. But now it was out in the open, it couldn't be very well ignored could it? And if Morgan wasn't going to ignore it, how was he going to make his choice?

If he was so sure that he loved both John and Jeff, he couldn't very well be with both. There had to be some element of choosing, which brought with it a whole host of even more disturbing problems. What criteria would one use between people that you loved?

Looks? Attentiveness? Skill as a lover? Size of their… Morgan found himself blushing as he mentally pictured John and Jeff in all their naked glory.

Lost in his own thoughts, somehow Morgan had made it to his dressing room without realising it. Pushing the door with his hand, he eased himself into the grey carpeted room. Mounds of his clothes spilled out into all corners of the room, littered with several other personal belongings.

Sat on a chair near the far wall was someone Morgan hadn't expected. Hearing the door swing shut behind him, the singer felt his voice melt away inside his throat. Licking his suddenly bone dry lips, Morgan didn't know what to say. That had to be a first.

"We need to talk." Standing up from his chair, Dave Batista stretched his arms to the side as his dark eyes studied Morgan's face.

"Uh…okay…?" Morgan replied, his head buzzing with reasons for Dave Batista's presence.

"I assume you know why I'm here." Dave began, looking vaguely threatening as he sized up the British singer.

"Actually…" Morgan replied, lips twitching nervously. He had no clue as to why Dave Batista would be in his dressing room of all places. Nor did he have any idea as to why he wanted to talk.

"I here because of John," Batista explained, clearly not pleased with Morgan's ignorance. "I want to know why you're deliberately trying to break his heart. Do you not love him…? Or is this some kind of game to you. Are you playing with John's emotions on purpose?"

"Whoa…" Morgan exhaled, eyes widening to the size of saucers as he registered everything the wrestler said. Had John confided in Batista about his feelings for Morgan? "What are you talking about? Why…would I be breaking John's heart?"Oh, nice attempt at innocent you jack ass. Never give up the day job Morgan. You sure as hell suck at acting. Silently berating himself for his lack of believability, Morgan stirred uncomfortably as Batista glowered at him from across the room.

"Don't play stupid with me kid, because I am likely to smack you three ways from Sunday. I know you and John have been seeing each other. And I know he is seriously hurting right now because of something you have done. Now, I want you to tell me exactly what is going on between you two, and why you're so hell-bent on breaking his heart. Please bare in mind, I'm not a patient man." Folding his massive arms across his broad chest, Batista continued to softly glare at the singer.

"How…" Morgan croaked uncomfortably, "How did you know that we…that we were…" Morgan couldn't believe himself. For someone who claimed to be 'out and proud', he certainly seemed to be having an inordinately difficult time of putting into words his relationship with John Cena.

"Do I look stupid to you?" At Morgan's silently shaking head, Batista's lips curled into a smile. "I know John Cena better than he knows himself. It's fuckin' obvious to me he's besotted with your scrawny little ass." Morgan stiffened at the description, but chose not to rise to the challenge. He honestly thought Batista might crush him into a ball and eat him for breakfast. Which…actually it being Batista and all…might be kinda hot…Get a grip Morgan!

"From the minute he saw you, there was something there for John," Batista explained. Morgan seemed more naive than he actually appeared, and the wrestler had not time beat around the bush with kid. "I don't think he knew straight away what it was, but John fell for you in a big way. I could see it. The way he talked about you, the way he reacted whenever you were around, his insistence on spending as much time with you as possible. Not that he would ever admit his feelings to me of course, but hell…I knew he was in love with you before he did."

Morgan felt his heart swell at the mention of John's love for him. "I've seen John in love with girls before, but it pales in comparison to what he feels for you kid. I don't understand it…and I don't think I want to understand it…but I know that my friend is in love with someone who's playing a game with his heart. And it's because he's my friend that I want to know why you're doing this to him. Is it not enough that he's had a near aneurism over allowing himself to feel what he feels for you? What else do you want the boy to do to prove that he's in love with you? I swear, you fucking gay guys are pieces of work."

"You gay guys..?" Morgan retorted. There was a line marking Morgan's tolerance, and Batista had just barrelled over it in a big way. All thoughts of pacifism aside, Morgan felt his anger rear its ugly head in the swell of his chest. "What the hell do you know about being gay? Nothing. Don't presume to tell me what it means to be a gay man in a relationship because you have no clue."

Batista looked momentarily taken back by Morgan's words, and the singer wasn't done either. "Who are you to come barging into my dressing room and lecture me on playing with people's emotions? You don't know what the hell you are talking about. You're just basing this on what you think you know about John, and then telling me I'm a piece of work when you don't know me at all. Where in the hell do you get off?"

"Don't change the subject Morgan." Batista's growl was low and commanding. "I want to know what you feel for John Cena, and I'm not leaving this room until I get a straight answer."

Rolling his eyes at the word 'straight' in connection to his relationship with John, Morgan felt somehow compelled to be honest. "I don't know." Oh the irony."You don't know?" Batista replied incredulously. "I may not be gay, but I know how love works. You either feel something for John, or you don't. It ain't that hard kid."

"It's more complicated than that." His defence was weak, and he felt as though he were once again dancing around the issue.

"You're making this complicated Morgan…more than it needs to be. Surely you see that toying with John's heart, and all the while preparing to marry Jeff is unfair to everyone, including you. If you love Jeff and not John, that's fair enough. But at least have the decency to leave my friend alone. He doesn't deserve this bullshit." Batista shook his head, wondering if his words were falling on deaf ears.

"God, why does everyone keep oversimplifying this? Yes, okay I have feelings for John…I think I might love him…" The words tumbled over Morgan's lips before he could stop them. Yet, now that they were out there, Morgan never felt surer of anything in his life. "…but I also have feelings for Jeff and I don't know how to separate the two. I know John loves me, and it was never my intention to hurt him, but I can't just ignore what I feel for Jeff when I'm not sure what I'm feeling fore each on individually. Besides, Jeff is a really good guy, and he loves me so much. I just -…"

"Are you in love with Jeff?" Batista was blunt, and more than straight to the point.

"Yes. Of course. I love Jeff." Morgan replied, eyes creasing in confusion. What was Batista getting at?

"It's nice that you love him, but that wasn't my question," Batista clarified, "I asked are you in love with him?"

"What's the difference?" Morgan's nose scrunched to show his confusion.

Batista chuckled lightly. "Kid, there's a big difference."

"Whatever," Morgan countered, "that doesn't change my feelings for Jeff? I can't just ignore him because of John."

"And yet you'll give John up just to save Jeff's feelings?" Batista's tone was slightly mocking, almost as though he were morbidly amused at Morgan's rationalising of choosing to be with Jeff.

"No…you don't…I mean it's not like that…" Having his reasoning torn down in eleven words, Morgan found himself floundering. What could he say to counter act Batista? Was he actually right in his judgement of Morgan's feelings?

"You know what I think?" Batista offered, trying to sound as friendly as he possibly could. "I think you're so in love with John in scares the crap outta you. You're terrified to love Cena for some reason, and because of that, you won't let him love you back. Jeff is nothing but a convenient excuse not to be with John. You're using Hardy to hide yourself." Morgan's eyebrows shot up at Batista's judgement of his relationship with Jeff Hardy. "I know you love Jeff, but you're not in love with him. That's the difference. Jeff is just there as a way to protect yourself from John. I don't get why you're doing it," Batista admitted, shaking his head softly, "John wants you so bad back. You've got nothing to be afraid of."

Morgan seemed to visibly retreat into himself, as though he were trying to hide away from Batista's words. "Listen kid…I'm not trying to fuck with your head, but I'm just telling you like it is. If you're ready to admit that I'm right in what I've told you…that you're marrying Hardy for all the wrong reasons…then don't marry Jeff. I know your engagement party is tonight, and it will hurt like a bitch…but Jeff deserves honesty above anything else."

Batista crossed the room so that he was face to face with Morgan. "You can't let him go through with this if you don't love him like he loves you...like you love John. It's wrong for everybody involved…and it will finish John off. He's so cut up right now…you've really broken his heart…"

Looking up into Batista's burning gaze, Morgan could feel the tears in the back of his eyes. It was though his whole world was starting to fall apart around him. Resting his hands on Morgan's shoulders, Batista locked gazes with the singer. "Just be honest Morgan. It's the only way you're gonna sort this mess out now. I can't make you make the right decision. I just hope you'll get over whatever shit you need to get over before it all ends up with three broken hearts…"

Shaking his head softly, Batista squeezed Morgan's shoulder in his hand. Turning on his heel, he walked out the door, leaving Morgan completely alone in his thoughts.

It was not a good place for the singer to be. Batista may as well have punched the living crap out of him, as Morgan felt as though he had been hit by an 18-wheeler truck. He didn't pretend to comprehend the level of his feelings for John Cena, but he did know there was only one thing he could do.

He had to talk to Jeff Hardy.


	20. Tell Him

**_A/N: _Update! Happy New Year! New Chapter (finally!!) for your enjoyment. I am sorry it has taken me this long, but I hope the wait was worth it. I hope everyone had a fabulous Christmas, and are enjoying the New Year! Thank you for all being so patient...and you can show me you forgive my lack of updates by leaving me a review. Hehehehe I disclaim! Please read and review. 4 chapters to go...**

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_What was that saying about the best laid plans ending in the bowl of a toilet? Okay, so maybe those weren't the exact words, but Morgan knew it had to be something to that effect. _

His life was seriously fucked up. But it wasn't without salvation.

It was oddly hysterical to Morgan that someone he didn't know, someone who came from a different walk of life and had such a different outlook on life to the singer could sum his character up so easily. Either David Batista was some kind of psychic, or he was very in-tune with things going around him.

Whatever the reason, one single conversation with him had lifted the haze that had been hanging over Morgan for so long. For some reason, the older man's lecture had spurned the young singer into action. He knew what he wanted…he knew what he had to do…now he just had to do it. And it seemed everything on the face of the planet was trying to stop him from doing it.

Things hadn't started well after Morgan had left his dressing room. Arriving back in the main area of the arena, he had been met with an extremely irate tour manager. It seemed Morgan's little rants against two members of the tour crew hadn't gone unnoticed. Both had gone straight to their immediate superior, who took the form of Andrew. He was a burly, African American man, with a short temper and even shorter tolerance for bad manners and singers throwing petulant diva fits.

He had exploded on a massive scale, berating Morgan for his treatment of the technical crew. Many had threatened to resign from the tour and leave the temperamental singer to it. Morgan had done his best to apologise, but was clearly getting nowhere as Andrew mounted his soap box, refusing to be dislodged. It was only because of the interfering actions of Elsie, Morgan's manager, that the situation had been calmed. Say what you want about Elsie's timid appearance, when it came down to it, she was the one wearing the trousers on the tour, and everyone would respect that. If you didn't fall in line, you were out. There was no question.

Andrew had begrudgingly accepted Morgan's grovelling apology, giving his consent for the tour continue. After Morgan's profuse apologies to Jerry and Carrie, the sound check had continued - or rather, it had started again from the beginning. With the technical problems from before rearing their ugly heads again, the entire session ran over by two hours. During the entire rehearsal, Morgan had desperately tried to get in contact with Jeff. He guessed his boyfriend was getting ready for the celebrations in the evening. They were supposed to be celebrating their engagement.

Redoubling his efforts, Morgan had tried regularly to get in contact with Jeff Hardy, but to no avail. It seemed whatever the wrestler was doing, he wasn't about to answer a phone call, text message or page sent his way. As soon as the preliminary rehearsal had ended, Morgan had fled the stage, tearing backstage to his dressing room. Gathering everything he though he might need in the two minutes he was there, the British singer had fled as fast as he could to the outside world.

Noting in horror that his private car driver was no-where to be seen, Morgan had hailed a cab, desperate to be taken back to his hotel. The car had barely turned the block when Morgan first became aware of the traffic. In a queue that seemed to stretch forever, the singer honestly began to wonder if something was telling he shouldn't be trying to make it to his own engagement party. The traffic jam had soon descended into grid lock, clearly with no-one getting anywhere anytime soon - every automobile resting tail to bumper with the next. After another hour spent stuck in the confines of the taxi, Morgan finally gave in. Thrusting a handful of notes to the driver, Morgan exited the vehicle, more than prepared to make the final half a mile on foot if he had to.

He felt as though he had run faster than he had ever done in his entire life. Dodging pedestrians and cars as he darted from sidewalk to the road and back again, Morgan came close to being run over more than once. But the danger didn't register in his panic stricken mind. He had to get to the hotel, and it had to be now.

Checking his watch, Morgan noted with horror that he was half and hour late. If he was judging it correctly, Jeff would have already left the hotel and be on his way to the club where the celebration was taking place. Zipping up his leather jacket, Morgan took off across the street, at least partially glad that the club was somewhat closer to his current destination than the hotel.

Mercifully, and after what seemed like an eternity of an Olympic marathon, Morgan made it to the club. Chest heaving, and his face something akin to the colour of a beetroot, he finally arrived at the darkened entrance to the club. The lobby was pretty much deserted, not even the usual staff one would expect to see. _They must be inside preparing, _Morgan realised.

Sounding like an asthmatic bear with a head cold, the young singer jogged his way through the opened doors. It seemed his luck was changing for the better, as Morgan saw Jeff pacing nervously outside the inner doors to the club. The large wooded panels were closed firmly, and the North Carolinian native alone in the lobby of the club. Slightly put off by the entire lack of noise coming from the inside, Morgan had no time to dwell on it further as his husband-to-be looked up to meet his arrival. Jeff's sea green eyes registered Morgan's appearance with a mix of relief and concern.

"Morgan, baby where have you been? I was expecting you a half an hour ago…are you not ready?" His eyebrow rose slightly as he took in his lover's appearance, crossing the length of the lobby as he spoke. Taking the panting singer into his arms, Jeff dipped his head lower, brushing the soft curve of his lips against those of Morgan's. With a gentle concern reflected in his eyes, Jeff cupped Morgan's face with his hand, gently smoothing his thumb over the pillow of his cheek. "Are you okay? You're really red."

"Taxi…jam…ran…all…the…way…" Morgan managed, suddenly feeling a little light headed due to the lack of oxygen in his body, and all the while his chest heaved in as much air as it could with each deep breath.

"You ran all the way?" Jeff smiled softly, his lips curving into a sweet round. Leaning forward, he lovingly brushed the tip of his nose against that of Morgan's. His hands found a resting place on the place where Morgan's shoulder met his neck, as he continued the connection between the tips of their noses.

"Yes…" Morgan managed through pants. It felt as though his lungs were on fire, and each breath continued to fan the flames to epic proportions. Trying to ignore the breathing difficulty, Morgan placed his own hands on top of Jeff's, maintaining eye contact. "…Jeff…we have…to talk…"

"Sure," Jeff replied, smoothing out the collar of Morgan's jacket as he spoke, "but c'mon inside first." Without another word, Jeff held Morgan's hand in his own, immediately making his way towards the double doors just ahead. His excitement was bubbling beneath the surface. Jeff couldn't _wait_ to see Morgan's face when he saw what was going on inside.

"No, Jeff wait…" Morgan tried, but it was too late. "We have to…talk…?" Turning to face the open club doors, Morgan was overtaken by a wall of sound. Cheers, whistles, hands clapping…so much all at once frightened the singer nearly to death. There were so many people.

The club had been obviously decorated inside, as the ceiling seemed to drip with colour as streamers and balloons of various sizes and arrangements hung downwards. Just the decoration alone gave the definite appearance of a celebration. The disco-ball was in full effect, sending circles of pinks, reds, purples, blues and yellows dancing around the room, as the very room itself were in motion. Tables bordered the dance floor with chairs and eating arrangements clearly laid out.

This was a party alright. And set to a disco theme. And to set off the entire mood, Madonna's _'Future Lovers' _throbbed quietly in the background, adding music to the gathering. The album from which it came was Morgan's current favourite, and Jeff knew it. Under any other circumstance, the singer would have been elated with the attention to detail. Today, it just made him want to run out of that door without ever turning back.

As he felt himself steered further into the room, Morgan became aware of the people gathered inside, considerably more difficult than one would imagine given his dream like state. He recognised the groups of wrestlers milling around, as well as several of his own friends from the record company. In one awful gut-wrenching moment, Morgan felt touched by the lengths at which Jeff had clearly gone to, to make this event perfect. Age old insecurities gnawed away at Morgan's insides.

_He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this._

High above what was clearly the head table of the arrangement, hung a large white material banner. Across were the bold words _"Congratulations Jeff and Morgan" _plastered in deep shades of alternating red and gold.

Scratch any earlier thoughts Morgan had provisionally had about this day suddenly getting better. It had just nose-dived straight back into the bowl of the crapper. Morgan had wanted to catch Jeff to talk to him…there was so much he had to say to sort things out between himself and Jeff. Most of all, Morgan had wanted to have the conversation before all of this had taken place. And now? There was no way he would have to go through the process in a room full of their closest friends and family, here to celebrate their engagement. _Fuck!_

Brought out of his thoughts, Morgan turned to the side as Matt Hardy clapped a hand on his back, a goofy smile crossing over the elder Hardy Brother's face. The look of affection was given for the man that was soon-to-be brother in law. Morgan smiled weakly in return, feeling as though Matt's doe brown eyes were accusing of him of terrible, awful things that he had and would do to Jeff. Hands clenching at his sides, Morgan had no time to get more agitated by the simple look as Jeff led him to the mock staging next to which the DJ had set up.

The applause, started by Matt, seemed to reach a fever pitch before dying down as Jeff held the microphone to his lips. Glancing out between the dancing lights, Morgan could make out the faces smiling warmly back at him. There were Trish Stratus and Mickie James, Randy Orton, Adam Copeland and Brian Kenderick. Walking into the dancing lights from the back were Matt Hardy, 'CM Punk', Shannon Moore and Lillian Garcia. The closest bunch of people to Jeff in the whole world.

As his ocean blue eyes travelled further through the room, Morgan felt his heart catch in his throat. A final person had entered the room. It was Jeff's father. Morgan had met the aging man once, and had been awestruck. He was clearly past his prime, perhaps the hunch of his body of the lines of care etched into his face gave it away. And yet, Morgan had never sensed a greater level of inner strength in anyone else in his entire life. Morgan had often wondered if Jeff's creative fire had been inherited from his father.

Whatever the case, the singer felt as though he was being punished. And so should he. Unable to look at the patriarch Hardy, Morgan diverted his attention across the club, immediately wishing he hadn't. Resting against the far wall with his arm around Candice Michelle was Dave Batista. The scowl on his face said more than the man ever could, the muscles in his developed body clearly taut beneath the crisp white shirt.

"So Morgan and I would like to thank you all for coming out here today," Jeff began, his voice sounding out over the system set up by the DJ. "I hope you guys all know why we asked you here, but if you don't, I'll clue you in." Licking his lips, Jeff couldn't contain the smile that spread across his lips as he repeated the words that kept on bringing real joy to his life. "A little while ago, I asked this guy here to marry me." Turning to offer a gushing smile to his lover, Jeff took Morgan's hand in his own. "And he said yes."

A second ripple of applause tumbled through the gathered crowd, as Morgan shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. "I don't need to tell you guys that it hasn't been the best couple of years of me. I guess you could even say I lost my way a bit. But I'm actually thankful for that. For all the darkness and heartbreak I suffered in my colder times, it was all worth it. The dark path I started on finally ended up in the light…" Jeff turned, stepping closer to Morgan, "…the path led me to you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me Morgan Lee, and I am so thankful for that. You make a life that was cold full of light and joy. I love you, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you…"

Without a further word, Jeff pulled Morgan into a tight embrace. Tears stung Morgan's eyes, feeling his head rest on Jeff's shoulder out of the sight of the cheering crowd. _I can't do this. I can't hurt him…he doesn't deserve any of this…_

Jeff pulled back, resting his forehead against that of Morgan's. Perhaps he had exposed a little more of himself than he had originally intended to, but that didn't matter. This room symbolised love to Jeff. Real love, all consuming and fierce in it's most basic of forms. Surrounded by friends and family, declaring his undying feelings for his soul mate - he didn't see how it could get any better.

Lifting his hand, Jeff offered the microphone to Morgan, prompting him to say something. The crowd hushed at once as the younger man gripped the object in his hand. The cold metal seemed to burn into his palm as his knuckles turned white from the strength of the grip. His ocean blue eyes swept out into the room, a crowd of people waiting in baited breath to her him reciprocate Jeff's admission of love.

An awful silence fell in the club. The words just wouldn't come from Morgan. His mouth hung open, bottom lip trembling slightly. "I…I don't think I can follow that…" Morgan admitted, doing his level best to avoid eye contact with the burning gaze coming from Batista. "…I don't really know many of you…at all…but I know you're all very fond of Jeff here…" Somewhere in the room, a few murmurs of agreement surfaced, dying away just as quickly. "…I don't need to tell you what an amazing man he is. I think he has the most inspiring soul, he brings happiness and love to everyone that has the fortune to know him."

Jeff blushed gently as Morgan's words, twitching his feet beneath him. "…I can't put into words what I feel for you Jeff. But I'm so lucky you have someone as true as you in my life. I don't know what I did to deserve it, but -…"

Morgan's voice died away into the silence of the room as a single round of applause echoed off the walls. Morgan's brow furrowed as he peered from the top of the staging, searching for the source of the sound. Everyone else gathered followed suit, eyes travelling for the lone clapper.

From the darkest corner of the room, John Cena stepped forward. From the side of the dance floor, Dave Batista inhaled breath quickly through his clenched teeth. Randy Orton looked somewhat interested at John's presence. It was obvious by his walk that John wasn't entirely sober. The smile on his face was just a little to relaxed to normal, but his lips did nothing warm the ice in his eyes.

Both steel blue eyes focused solely on Morgan as he continued to clap, almost mocking as he did so. Shaking his head, he offered a bitter chuckled, tearing his baseball cap from his head. "Really…really great performance Morgan…"John sneered, making his way unsteadily forwards through the crowd. "Maybe you should have been an actor instead of a singer…you're so good at pretending…"

"John man, now isn't the time." Batista harshly whispered the words into John's ear, catching his elbow in his large palm. Cena easily shrugged his friend off, pushing him backward with a little more force than he originally had intended.

"Now is the perfect time," John added, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Pushing forward through the group of people, Cena made his way up the short set of steps to join Morgan and Jeff on the staging, "isn't it Morgan? Now that everyone's here…wouldn't now be a good time to tell everyone what you really feel…?"

Jeff stepped forward, immediately putting himself between Morgan as he recoiled away from the advancing John Cena. Although John was slightly taller, Jeff made no show of backing down, standing face to face with 'The Champ'. "Listen man," Jeff began, "I don't know what's going on you, but you stink of booze. Maybe you should go sober up and come back to the party when you're feeling more yourself, okay?"

Jeff did his best to cool the situation, but it did nothing to quell the sense of purpose in John. His large arm snaking past Jeff, he gripped the microphone in his hand, easily taking it out of Morgan's grasp. Holding the mic to his lips, he addressed his response to Jeff to everyone in the room. "But I am feeling like myself Jeffrey. More than ever. I just wanted to be the first person to congratulate the happy couple on their engagement…" John feigned a smile at the crowd, with every one of his colleagues looking on in embarrassment.

"Specifically," John continued, "I want to congratulate Morgan on everything he has achieved…c'mon up here Morgan. Let's share with these wonderful people just exactly how much you love Jeffy boy here…sure the _love of your life _deserves to know the truth…" As he spoke the words, no-one could mistake the underlying tone of malice in Cena's usual amiable voice.

"John…please don't do this…" Morgan begged in a low whisper.

"Don't do what Morgan?" John replied, speaking into the microphone in a louder voice. "What don't you want me to do? What do you not want me to tell all these people? Could the infallible Morgan Lee having something to hide…?" The room's collective glance focused firmly on Morgan, who clearly looked uncomfortable with the attention.

"You're not answering me Morgan, what is it that you don't want any of Jeff's friends and family not to know?" John's gaze burned into Morgan's. "Why don't you tell them yourself Morgan? Why don't you tell everyone here just how much you Jeff Hardy…here take the microphone…go ahead…we all want to know Morgan. Let's hear just what else can come out of that sweet looking mouth…"

John held the microphone out to the singer, who shuffled backwards away from it. Seeing how uncomfortable Morgan was becoming, Jeff once again stepped in front of his lover. "I'm serious Cena," he growled, his eyes darkening in growing anger, "you back off now, or I'm gonna make you…"

"Isn't that beautiful," John cried, chuckling as his eyes narrowed at Morgan, "Jeff can easily tell us how much he loves Morgan, but Morgan can't seem to do the same. What's the matter Morgan? Cat got your tongue?" Unspoken range bubbled to dangerous proportions in Cena's face, his eye glinted with a threatening intent Morgan had never seen in him before. "Or is it that even you can choke out any more lies?"

"Alright, that's fuckin' enough Cena!" Jeff roared, shoving John as hard as he could. Taken by surprise in his inebriated state, John lost his balance easily, toppling backwards off the staging to the floor below. His muscles frame connected to the polished wood flooring in an audible thud, the wrestler momentarily losing his senses. Voices rose as people were both shocked by the actions of Jeff and John.

Using the flurry of activity as a cover, Morgan leapt down from the staging. Call him weak, call him a coward, Morgan honestly didn't care. Sticking to the shadows against the wall, Morgan dipped low, heading as quickly and as quietly as he could towards the exit. In all the excitement, no-one had noticed his hurried departure.

No-one that is…except John Cena.

"Morgan!…Hey Morgan! Oh no, you ain't goin' nowhere." John's deep voice boomed over the loudspeaker, stopping Morgan inches from the door. With nowhere to run, he slowly turned to look back at the room. As he had feared, everyone had turned to watch him - catching him the act of running away. Part him actually wondered why they would be surprised. If they knew him at all, they should know running was what he did best.

"Let's be honest here," John commanded, striding across the dance floor to catch up to the startled singer. "For once in life, be fuckin' honest. Be honest with Jeff. The dude asked you to marry him, you owe him honesty if nothing else."

"John…please, I can't do this…not to him…" Morgan begged, his voice a whisper which only John could here.

"Fuck you Morgan. You might be able to lie and smile through your teeth and pretend like nothing is going on…well I can't anymore." John shook his head, rubbing his palm over his features, as if trying to force a sense of clarity into his mind. "He loves you," John stated pointing directly at Jeff, who was now standing just behind Morgan, "and you can't even be honest with him. If anyone doesn't deserve to be lied to, it's Jeff."

"What is he talking about?" Jeff questioned, never once taking his eyes off John as he slid his arm over Morgan's shoulders. "Morgan?"

"Go ahead Morgan, tell him. Tell him that while he was out there busting his ass in the ring the other night…you were with me in my locker room…tell him that all the while he thought you loved him like he loved you…you were kissing me like your life depended on it."

The audible gasp shuddered through everyone in the room at the power of John's words. Morgan and John had been kissing. Jeff's eyes blinked once…then twice…"What…?"

Ignoring Jeff's reaction, John pushed on. He knew what he was going to say was about to break Jeff's heart. He was being selfish, but there really was no choice anymore. "C'mon Morgan…tell the truth now. Just tell Jeff about that day when he came to your hotel room to take you out on a date, and he walked in on me apologising to you for kissing you the night before."

John searched Morgan's face for any kind of expression, an acknowledgement. All he got were Morgan's bright eyes focused on Jeff, perhaps reading Hardy for the same expression of emotion. "Or better yet…tell him Morgan. Tell him about that night were you cancelled your date with him…you cancelled so you could be with me. Tell Jeff how you ended up in my bed…and that we spent the night together…how we made love through the night…I made love to until and you cried my name, begging me to go deeper…right until you finally collapsed in my arms…tired and spent…sharing in my feelings for you…"

John's words died away as Morgan clapped his hand over his mouth, as if trying to stop his own words coming out. "Tell Jeff that you don't love him…tell him that you love me, that I'm the person you want to be with."

The tears rolled out of Morgan's in earnest, staining his cheeks as they continued to fall. Morgan could take anything…anything except for that look of utter heartbreak in Jeff's eyes. It was if his heart had collapsed in on itself, his green eyes fading because of the unbridled hurt, causing Morgan's stomach to drop to a lower level that it ever had before.

The room was silent…silent apart from Jeff's ravaged sobs. He turned to Morgan, staring intently. He took a step closer, mouth trembling as the words that were desperate to be freed from his throat couldn't make themselves be heard. He was less than a step away from Morgan, when Jeff made a total about turn. He brought his fist along with it, crushing it into John's face with all the force he was capable of.

John reeled backwards, landing harshly on his back, a thin line of crimson blood leaking from his split lip. Morgan recoiled away, feeling he was next in line for a punch.

"Tell me it isn't true. Tell me he's lying." Jeff pleaded, eyes pooling with tears as he grabbed Morgan by the shoulders, shaking him harshly. "Please…say he's lying…please…"

Morgan sobbed quietly, forcing himself to look into the eyes of the man whose heart he had broken. What else did he have to lose? Where would lying get him now? "I can't Jeff…I can't because it's true…all of it…I'm so sorry…"

Morgan squeaked as Jeff looked as though he physically hurt Morgan. Instead, Jeff turned on his heel, levelling his fist into the wall behind him. The dull thud sent a shudder through everyone's body, as Jeff bit down against the pain. Holding himself up against the wall, his body heaved with the intake of breath. He felt disbelief, nausea, heartbreak and fury all at once. Words couldn't convey the cocktail of emotions poisoning his blood.

"Out…"Jeff screamed. "Everyone get the fuck out!"

The crowd which had remained in a stunned silence suddenly spurred into life. Everyone shuffled towards the exit, with no-one wanting to look in the direction of Jeff or Morgan. "Not you Morgan," Jeff growled as Morgan had turned to leave, "you stay where you are…"

Randy lent down to John, helping the fallen wrestler to his feet. Shuffling unsteadily towards the door, John stopped as he neared the singer. "Morgan?" It was a question more than anything, expressing all the unspoken words between the pair.

"Just go John. You've done enough." Morgan coldly replied without turning to face the wrestler. "Whatever comes next…I deserve…"

Without a second word, Randy forcibly moved John towards the exit, much to the larger man's resistance. As the door finally closed behind them, Jeff finally moved from the wall. His body slowly turning around, sending fresh waves of fear into the singer as her finally faced Morgan. Tears streaked down Jeff's face, his mouth twisted into a grimace of pain. Morgan's own bottom lip trembled as he lifted his head to meet Jeff's glance.

"Morgan…why?"


	21. Confide In Me

**_A/N: _Cheer with me! That's right, update. New chapter for your reading enjoyment. Finally, by 'writer's block' has been lifted. The words just 'came' to me for this chapter, which is a real blessing after my recent creative drought. Thanks have to go to the insanely talented Vera Roberts. I read her excellent story 'The Family' and suddely I could write again! **

**So here we go. Update. Please read and review! I disclaim! Lyrics are from 'Confide In Me' by Kylie Minogue. One of my favourite songs. I hope you enjoy :)**

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"Get…off me man!"

John Cena struggled roughly against the tough grip of his friend Randy. Despite Orton's slight height advantage, John was bigger, with more strength. Holding him against his will, even when he was drunk was practically impossible. Tensing his biceps, John forced Randy's arms apart sending the baby-blue eyed wrestler staggering backwards.

Focusing his own steel blue orbs on the door back into the main club, John lunged forward. His efforts were met from a spear to the left. Randy had caught his balance, and lunged at John, tackling him into a door on his immediate left. Randy had expected the door to be locked - a firm surface to which he could pin John Cena.

Randy thought wrong.

The door wasn't locked - it wasn't even closed properly. The two muscled wrestlers smashed through the door, knocking it wide open. The pair collapsed to the ground, John landing with a definite thud on the polished oak floor. "Get…off…me!"

_I stand in the distance, I view from afar. Should I offer some assistance? Should it matter who you are?_

Wriggling himself free, John got to his knees, eyes becoming adjusted the room he was in. It was much like the main dance floor where 'the scene' had just taken place, only smaller. Against the far wall was bar, all the lights darkened as the room was empty. Pulling himself back to his feet, John turned around to see Randy backing himself against the door, his back flat against it to keep it closed. Randy knew he couldn't let his friend loose in the state he was in. He had to do anything he could to help, even if that risked his own personal safety.

Pointing at Randy, before pointing to the other man's immediate left, John's voice came out as a barked order. "Move." Randy shook his head, gulping in air as he registered the anger in John's steel blue eyes. Sure, the pair has wrestled before - and had an actual fist fight once or twice in the past. But that was all in good nature. The look in John's eyes made Randy wonder if he were actually safe here in the room with his friend. Considering John's unbalanced state, Randy suddenly regretted his bright idea.

"If you don't fuckin' move your ass Orton…I'm gonna fix it so you can't ever get a bone a chick ever again…" John advanced towards Randy, fists clenched firmly at his side. Randy shook his head as remained mute, all the while his mouth twisting into a grimace as John raised both fists. Scrunching his face up to prepare for the impact, Randy's only hope was that John didn't smash his face too badly. After all, it would be depriving the world of his good looks, wouldn't it?

At the last possible second, John veered to the left, grabbing a chair which had been resting on a stack of chair to Randy's left. Grunting with effort, John lifted it high above his head, before heaving it towards the other end of the room. The metal frame collided loudly with the dance floor, bouncing as it connected, before skidding to an absolute halt against the far wall. "I need a drink."

Stalking towards the bar, John clumsily vaulted over the top, as Randy carefully opened his eyes. He watched with interest as John wrenched the bottle of Jack Daniel's from it's holder on the wall. Grabbing a few shot glasses, John filled them each to the brim.

By now, Randy had joined him at the bar. Without looking at the other wrestler, John slid a filled shot glass across the bar surface to his friend. Both men took the glass in their hand, downing the liquid in one. Randy grunted as the liquid burned against the back of his throat. John didn't seem to be affected as all as he downed a second shot, followed swiftly by a third.

"Okay you old lush," Randy cried, snatching the bottle away from Cena, "take it easy. I ain't carrying your fat ass outta here when you're totally wasted."

John glared at Randy, before walking out from behind the bar. Taking the bottle furiously back from Orton, John proceeded to hop up onto one of the bar stools, his face glowering into the empty room. Randy licked his lips nervously, watching John's chest heave as his breathing became even harder. It seemed to be escalating to breaking point…which is exactly what happened.

"Fuck!" John screamed, hurling the full bottle of JD across the room. The textured glass connected against the far wall, shattering complete on impact. "Dude," Randy wailed in shock at the waste of perfectly good alcohol. "I sure as hell ain't paying for that."

"I'll stick it on Jeff's tab." John barked, balling his fists at his sides. "I should be in there. I shouldn't have left Morgan alone. I need to -…"

"What you need to do, is give those boys some time to sort out their shit. The last thing they need is your ape face poking around where it doesn't belong. Just let 'em be John." Randy watched as John got up from the stool, pacing across the dance floor. His shoes connected with dull thuds as he moved.

"This is all my fuckin' fault!" Cena exclaimed, running his hands over his shaven head. "If I hadn't of barged my way in and said all that stuff…"

"No argument here," Randy agreed, "you shouldn't have done that. Regardless of your personal feelings, that was a shitty thing to do to Jeff. You're supposed to be his friend, asshole."

"Don't you lecture me on the ethics of cheating with your friends' lover," John growled, "cos you ain't got no room to judge."

"Speaking as someone with experience with this kind of stuff John, I think I've get right to judge. Why did you do it man? At their engagement party of all places?" Randy searched John's features for some understanding. "What did you think was going to happen? That Jeff was just going to let Morgan go and the two of you would go home and fuck? Grow the fuck up Cena. That mess in there is of your doing."

"I know!" John screamed in response, "apart from truly shafting Jeff, Morgan is never going to talk to me again!"

"Wouldn't blame him either." Randy chuckled, snatching at a filled shot glass.

"How do I fix this?" John glanced up, eyes glittering with emotion.

"You ain't gonna do shit my friend." Randy explained, licking his lips after draining the glass of it's contents. "You're going to let those two crazy kids shoot the shit in their. Then maybe, if you're lucky, they won't have killed each other, and one of them will come find you and smack the shit out of you."

"And that's best case scenario." John mused.

_We all get hurt by love. And we all have our cross to bear. But in the name of understanding now, our problems should be shared_

"Sucks to be you, dude." Randy agreed. "But right now, I'm the best you got. So you can piss and moan all you want. Shoot the shit dude, get all your baggage of your chest. You'll feel better for it, and I haven't got anything better to do right now."

John eyed Randy suspiciously for a moment, before launching into a tirade or vented emotions. "This is such a mess Randy. I can't believe I let it get this far. I should have said something before I know. I should have…I should have…dammit! I don't know what I should have done. All this stuff is just a mystery to me." John pouted his bottom lip, dropping to a seated position on the dance floor.

"The relationship stuff is a mystery to you? What have you been smokin' Cena?" Randy asked seriously.

"Straight relationships, I get. Gay ones…they just baffle me." John explained. "…what?"

John's eyebrows rose at Randy's incredulous expression. "Bullshit John. A relationship ain't no different if it's between a guy and a girl or a guy and a guy. Love doesn't change just because it's between the same sex. God, and I thought I was supposed to be the immature one."

"Yeah…well it's hard…" John countered, not sounding entirely convincing.

"Exactly! That's your fucking problem," Randy stated bluntly, "the fact you couldn't keep your dick in your pants. You screwed around with Jeff's bitch. That's why this got so complicated. And to think of that time when you chewed me out for banging Torrie and Stacy at the same time. Hot damn!"

Randy sniggered at his comment, suddenly realising how good it must feel to be able to take the high road with someone. After all, it was usual the other way around, with John scolding him for his actions. "Shut up Orton."

"Aw, is Johnny boy getting pissed cos I'm telling him his shit does stink? Suck it up man! You fucked Jeff's piece of ass behind his back, now you're going to have to deal with the consequences." Randy rolled his eyes as John stuck his middle finger up at him.

"You know," John stated, eyes rising to look directly at Randy, "you're taking the fact I've been sleeping with another guy awfully well. Since when did you become so understanding?"

"I haven't," Randy shrugged, "what, you think I'm a gay basher? Hardly." Randy grinned mischievously. "Fuck, I love gay men! They fuckin' drool all over me. You know the amount of times I've had guys begging to let them suck on my wood? The love me man, sending me their underwear in mail and cologne too." Randy sighed at the thought of his adoring male fan base. "Besides, I'll have you know I was voted man of the year on Poofta dot com. That's an achievement."

John rolled his eyes. "Really?"

"Okay, okay," Randy added, "so Trish said I have to become more open minded. I'm open minded already! I told her that. If I was any more open-minded, my fuckin' brain would fall out of my head. Like this time we were in bed…and I suggested that she pull out her _'Rampant Rabbit Deluxe' _and get me tube of squinty cheese and -…"

"Not that I want to stop this cute little trip down memory lane," John cut in, "but weren't we discussing my shit, and not your perverted sexual deviancy?"

"Right," Randy agreed, "so I'm an understanding kind of guy. Besides, you think I'd honestly care if you were gay?"

"You wouldn't?" John countered with a raised eyebrow.

"Fuck no." Randy chuckled. "I mean, I ain't saying I'd want to sit down and help you dress up as a woman, or debate on which guy out of _Lost _is better looking…cos we all know it's Sawyer…" John chuckled at Randy's words. "Seriously man. We're tight. The fact you love the cock ain't gonna change that."

"I don't love the cock," John grunted, "that's the whole head-fucked thing about all of this shit."

"What do you mean?" Genuinely confused, Randy grabbed a bottle of beer resting behind the counter.

"If I were gay, this entire thing would have been so much easier. But I'm not. I don't love men in the plural…but I do love Morgan. I don't know why. I can't explain it, I can't understand it…but I can't change it. I fell for someone that I never thought I could. Does that make me a freak?" John wondered allowed.

"Not so much," Randy noted, stepping down from the stool to join his friend seated on the ground. "I kind of get where you're coming from."

"Why did this have to happen to me? Why did I have to meet him? Life wasn't so bad before. Sure, it sucked because of Ashley, but I would have gotten over it eventually. But everything is such a battle with Morgan. It was hard enough to admit that I felt anything at all. And Morgan…" John's voice trailed off as he wasn't exactly sure of what he was trying to say.

"…I gotta say you picked a fine guy to fall for. The guy's nuts." Randy observed.

"Huh?" Was the extent of John's confused reply.

"C'mon man, even I can see the man has got issues. And I'm as oblivious as it comes. He's got some shit in his past that has screwed him over royally. It can't be easy getting past it all." John knew he was drunk, because to him Randy sounded intelligent. And it was only going to get worse/better. "The most you can try to do is let him know that you love him. You do love him, right?"

_Confide in me_

"How can you even ask me that man?" John retorted, shoving his friend so that he toppled to his side. "Would I have had a meltdown in front of half the WWE talent if I didn't? Of course I love him. I'm just not so sure if he wants me."

_Confide in me_

"Do you love him…or are you in love with him?" Randy questioned as he righted himself to a seated position. He watched the expressions change on John's face as he considered his statement.

"What's the difference?" John asked, naïve in ways that Randy hadn't expected.

"A hell of a lot man," Randy sighed. "I _love _women John. I have done all my life. There have been plenty of girls that I've loved. I have feelings for them, they make me smile and I could easily see myself settling down with them." Taking another drink from the bottle, he enjoyed holding John's rapt attention.

"But I've never been in love with any of them. The best way I can describe it? Love to me is making me give a shit about something. None of them have ever made me care about anything more than myself. Except Trish, that is." Randy could already imagine the comments coming his way.

_I can keep a secret, and throw away the key. But sometimes to release it, is to set our children free_

"Trish?" John snorted, "You two fight ever other hour! You're either not talking or fucking like rabbits. Don't tell me you're in love with her."

"I am." Randy answered honestly, eyes focused and clear. "I always have been. As much as we fight and fuck, I am so in love with that girl…it takes my breath away. She's all I care about…when we're together, I want her so bad. Physically…but mentally too. I want every part of her…I want her to give everything she is to me. She's the first thought on my mind when I wake up, and the last one when I go to bed."

"Two typical times for you to have an erection." John chuckled.

"I'm serious man. I'm going to marry that girl and she's going to have my babies and we're gonna live in a fuckin' fairytale. I know this because I'm ass-over-tit in love with her." Randy nodded, surprised that he drained his bottle of beer already. "Now, I'll ask the question again. Are you in love with Morgan."

"Yes." John replied, without missing beat. "I'm starting to think that he's the only person I've ever been in love with. And as messy and difficult as it has been, and as it probably will be, nothing is ever going to change that."

"Even if he decides he doesn't want you after all the shit you pulled today?" Randy questioned.

"Yeah. He's the one for me. I know it." John smiled to himself.

"I think he knows it too." Randy admitted, "at least so Dave told me." At John's quizzical glance, Orton clapped his hand over his open mouth. "Fuck!"

"What aren't you telling me Randy?" John's tone held a vague sense of menace. The kind that said _if you don't tell me what I want to know in five seconds, I'm going to beat it out of you._

"Dave went and talked to your bitch the other day," Randy explained, "he basically told him to stop playing you and to choose either you or Jeff. Dave was pretty sure that he was going to pick you. That's if he has the guts to do it. The thing is, and this is just my casual non-interested observation of course…"

John frowned as Randy strung things out even more. "…but I think the kid is frightened. Like I reckon some stud screwed him over in his past, and now he's frightened of being in love with someone else. Jeffrey, god bless his panties and all, is just the 'beard' to the whole operation. God you pick some head cases Cena. I reckon you're a fuckin' social worker of something...like you're trying to help the mentally unbalanced in America by boning ever last one of them."

"You really think that's what it is?" John asked, ignoring Randy's barb, focused more on his desperate for validation on his own conclusions as to Morgan's fear of love.

"Pretty much." Randy nodded. "I guess the question is now, what are you going to do about it?"

_Stick or twist. The choice is yours. _

Sitting in silence, John was dumbfounded. So this was it. After all this time, all those months of hiding and feeling guilty about just _feeling_, someone was finally giving John the validation he needed. He knew he wasn't crazy. What he had felt for Morgan was as real as it was for anyone else. Yes, the object of his affections was damaged in some way, but at least someone else agreed that he was in love with John.

It was just scary that the one person who could give him real validation on his feelings was the one guy who John thought would never understand the basics of a relationship.

It seemed Randy Orton was deeper than John had originally given him credit for. This at much he knew. Well, that and the fact that Dave Batista was a meddlesome old woman.

_Sticking his nose in my business. _John was fuming, but decided he would deal with Batista at a latter date. Something…or rather someone else was more important right now. With a new sense of clarity, John could see the choice before him. It was either march into that room and put things right the only way he knew how, or let Morgan go once and for all.

_Hit or miss. What's mine is yours._

John knew what he had to do. And for the first time in a long time, he felt as though he had the courage to do it. Maybe it was the support and blessing of his friend…maybe it was the booze, John honestly didn't care.

He knew all that mattered was Morgan. And it was time to get everything out in the open, once and for all.

That was all the convincing John Cena would need. Sucking in a breath as if to build up his courage, he started getting up to his feet, dusting down his cut off shorts as he did so.

"John…man…where are you going?" Randy questioned, getting to his own feet, mentally already judging the distance between himself and the door.

"I have to go in there," he explained. "This has gone on long enough. I need to get in there and work things through with Morgan before I lose him for good."

"Alright," Randy conceded. "But I'm coming with you. I think someone should wait outside should you and Jeff decided to kill one another."

"Thanks man." John smiled appreciatively, taking his friend's hand in firm handshake. It rapidly became a man hug, causing Randy to chuckle. Loosening his grip, John marched straight for the door, pulling it open to reveal the empty lobby. "I really appreciate everything you just did for me."

"Anytime," Randy replied, stepping out into the lobby. It looked as though the other party guests had rapidly made themselves scarce. They were clearly the clever ones. Randy dropped into step as John led the way back towards the main dance floor. Even from this distance, the 'Legend Killer' could hear raised voices from inside the room. "Hey John?"

"Yeah?" his friend replied, turning back to face him.

"Say I decided to experiment…like maybe become gay…you know, just to try it? Would you…you know…be my first??" Randy questioned. His expression was unreadable to John, who couldn't decided if his friend was being serious or not.

"Never in a million fuckin' years Orton." John replied shaking his head.

"What?" Randy replied, sub consciously looking backwards towards the round of his own buttocks. "Is it my ass? Wait. It can't be ass. It's perfect. Look at that thing! You could bounce a freakin' quarter off that bad boy. Any gay guy would give up his entire Madonna CD collection to spread those tasty cheeks." Randy noted, as he slapped his own bottom.

"Randy…" John growled, scowling warily at his friend.

"Sorry man." Randy returned to face John, patting his friend on the shoulder. "I'm behind you. Now you get in there…and you go get your woman…uh - I mean guy. Go get your guy…" Randy blushed slightly at his slip up.

John just rolled his eyes, punching Randy on the arm. Turning back to face the doors of the main club, he gripped the door handle with some hesitation. This was it. The moment he had been preparing for. It really was now or never. And he was ready.

With one final intake of breath, John Cena twisted the handle, already hearing the voices inside hush to silence. Without a final glance back at Randy, John stepped into the room.

_Confide in me _

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	22. Run For Cover

**_A/N: _So I said I couldn't post another chapter of this for a while. Well, who am I to argue with the great Vera Roberts? I read her reviews, they really touched me and suddenly the words are back again. She reviews, and thus I write. It's like a drug.**

**To my ever faithful reviewers, I love you all each individually and collectively. I was so nervous about posting this story in the beginning, but the response I have had…well it's been nothing short of amazing. I couldn't have come this far without any of you, and I truly mean that. **

**I've been asked about the possibility of a sequel/prequel to 'Confide In Me'. To be honest, my answer at the moment is no. This story was therapeutic to me in many ways, and I feel I would be dragging it out if I did attempt another story. It's not that I don't love the whole John/Morgan/Jeff thing, I do. I would just rather leave everyone with one great story, than one great and one okay attempt.**

**And just for the reference, this 'scene' if you will, takes place as John/Randy are having their moment in the room down the hall.**

**I disclaim. Lyrics are from 'Run For Cover' by the Sugababes. Please read and review. 2 chapters left. And for those of you who have queried Ashley's whereabouts…let's just say she's somewhat crucial to the ending…**

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'_When you get me down, then I get turned around. I tend to cut myself off, from things I shouldn't run from'_

The silence between the pair lingered endlessly. It was thick, almost tangible, drowning both Morgan and Jeff under a wave of what 'wasn't' being said. Neither found it bearable. Neither made any move to break it.

As the tears continued their silent path down the curves of Jeff's cheeks, Morgan couldn't even bring himself to look into the eyes of the man who's heart he had well and truly broken. Having been on the receiving end of such callousness in his own life Morgan, fought hard to feel sympathy for Jeff. Yet, his mind choked with guilt. This was all of his doing. He was the one who had cheated; he was the one who had entered into a serious relationship, knowing all the while what would be the outcome to. Jeff didn't deserve any of this. And Morgan knew it.

Raising his glance slightly, Morgan's ocean blue eyes caught sight of Jeff's fist. It was swollen, the knuckles angry and red on the puffed out skin. Only imagining the pain it might be causing, the idea that Jeff might been in physical pain somehow brought Morgan back to life.

He slowly made his way across the dance floor towards the bar, making sure every move was deliberate and non-threatening. Morgan knew Jeff was on the edge, and the last thing he wanted to do was exasperate the situation, causing the broken man to explode anymore than he already had.

Reaching the bar top, Morgan reached over into the metallic silver coolers where bottles were kept. Sliding it open, Morgan grabbed as much ice as he possible could. Scooping the frozen cubes into the confines of the near by towel, Morgan wrapped it up as best he could.

Taking careful steps back across the room, Morgan was now closer to Jeff than he had been all night. It only now occurred to Morgan that Jeff was sobbing, his eyes firmly fixed closed as the tears refused to desist. Gently taking his hand into his own, Morgan carefully placed the bag of ice onto Jeff's bruised knuckles. A hiss escaped from Jeff's twisted lips, causing his intense green eyes to flicker open. It was like looking into pools of jade water, rippling and constant in their agony.

Feeling a fresh wave of tears sting his own eyes, Morgan did everything he could to hold them back. Focusing on Jeff's bottom lip, it trembled gently under the wave of emotion flooding through his body. As though he were suddenly falling, Jeff leant forward, Morgan assuming to shove him away. Instead, Morgan was surprised as Jeff engulfed Morgan into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around Morgan's back, drawing his body as close to him as he possibly could.

Feeling uncomfortable, as though this were somehow wrong, Morgan thought he should possibly break the embrace. That was until Jeff buried his head against the curve of Morgan's shoulder and neck. Hearing the stifled sobs melted Morgan's reserve in an instant. Closing his arms over the expanse of Jeff's back, Morgan let his own eye close against the tears spilling forth. The young singer simply held Jeff, gently stroking the palms of his hands up and down the back of Jeff.

It seemed they stayed like that for an eternity, safe in the arms of one another, both crying their respective eyes until no more tears would come. The silence which had plagued them before settled once more in the room, although not uncomfortable as before. It wasn't that neither wanted to say anything, more that they just didn't have the energy to articulate their own pain.

"I'm sorry." Jeff's voice came out of nowhere, sounding muffled as his lips were still crushed against Morgan's neck. Lifting his head, he locked eyes with Morgan, still holding in the embrace. "I shouldn't have acted that way. I didn't mean…to upset you. I just…"

"Don't apologise," Morgan pleased, placing the hand against Jeff's cheek. "Not for a second. None of this is your fault…none of it. Do you understand? This was all my doing, right from the start. You have no blame in any of this Jeff. I'm the one who needs to apologise here…"

As Morgan's voice faltered, Jeff gently released him from his arms. "Why did this happen Morgan? Why did you…did you…"

Clearly Jeff was unable to finish his own sentence, leaving Morgan feeling obligated as though it was his place to put into words the 'deed'. "…Why did I cheat with John? I don't know." It was a weak answer, but Morgan could give no coherent explanation at the moment. For one thing, he honestly wasn't sure how things had gotten into the spiral that they were in.

'_It doesn't really matter. Sometimes we run for cover. I'm always on the outside'_

"Was it me?" Jeff's voice sounded small and distant, as his head dipped to focus on the ground. "Was I not good enough as your boyfriend?" Jeff raised his head, fresh tears bubbling to the surface of his eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" The strength in Morgan's own voice surprised himself. "Don't think like that Jeff. You can't think that you are somehow to blame for my actions. You did nothing wrong. You have to know that Jeff. I can't deal with my own shit and then have to feel guilty because you feel guilty…my whole head will fall off. Please Jeff, don't blame yourself."

"Then why?" Jeff repeated his earlier questions, wiping away at the tears on his cheeks. "If I haven't done anything wrong, why would you be screwing with John behind my back? I don't understand."

"It wasn't like that," Morgan assured, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "It just happened. I don't know why, but it did. We were only together like that once…there was no relationship going on behind your back."

"How can I believe you?" Jeff's question was fair.

"You can't," Morgan agreed, holding Jeff's gaze with his own. "I can only tell you what happened. I can't make you believe me. I wouldn't want to try. I have no right to ask you to do anything anymore."

"Yes you do," Jeff choked. He stepped closer to Morgan, placing his hands onto Morgan's hips. "None of this changes how I feel Morgan. I still love you like I did when I woke up this morning. Nothing can change that. I still want to be with you.."

Jeff's hand crept up to cup Morgan's face. Instinctively, Morgan could feel Jeff's intention to kiss him. Morgan pulled back slightly, stepping free of Jeff's arms. "This can't carry on Jeff. Don't you get it? I slept with someone else while we were together. How can you possibly still want to be with me?"

"Because that's how love worth. You said that you weren't in a relationship behind my back. I guess I want you more that I care about whatever happened between you and Cena. Is that so hard to understand?"

"Yes!" Morgan exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "How can you be so nice about this? I fucked another guy behind your back Jeff. What else could be worse than that? I gave my body to someone that isn't you. You should be livid. Get angry Jeff. Do something…anything! Hate me, tell me you don't want me, smack the shit out of me…or whatever else you feel you need to do. But stop being so good about everything…"

"That would make it easy for you, wouldn't it?" Jeff's reply caught Morgan off guard. "If I stand here and tell that I hate you, it just gives you the excuse you need to run away with John. Well I'm not letting you do that. You're right Morgan, you made this mess. Now it's about fucking time you clear it up. I'm not going to make this decision for you, so if that's what you thought you were getting then you are so wrong. I've already told you, I love you. I can get over whatever you did with John. It may take me a little time, but I can do it. I still want us to stay together. Do you understand that?"

'_It doesn't really matter, sometimes we run for cover, I'm always on the outside. You never seem to wonder, how much you make me suffer. I speak it from the inside'_

Morgan's mouth clamped shut, his eyes burning into his skull. "How? How can you possibly want me? What's the matter with you!" Morgan was clearly getting irate. Of all the reactions he had been expecting, this was clearly the one he hadn't thought of.

"Morgan, you're so screwed up," Jeff admitted, shaking his head sadly. "You've got this twisted way of looking at life. It's all about punishment and redemption for you. You want me to make you feel bad for what you've done. What is that going to achieve? Other than breaking the heart of the man that I am so in love with. This is how adult relationships work Morgan. You have problems, and sometimes things get shitty, but the way you get through it, is by sticking together and working it through."

"And there are something you can't work through," Morgan fired back, "we're talking about a disagreement on what colour to paint the bathroom, we're talking about infidelity. It's the one thing that you can't forgive in a person…"

"Maybe it's the one thing you can't forgive Morgan, but that doesn't mean everyone else feels the same. I believe that if you love someone enough, you can get past anything. I don't think you set out to deliberately hurt me Morgan, I really don't. I just think you lost your way a little. You're so used to people making you feel bad about yourself, you just crave warmth from anywhere you can get it. I know more about you than John does and I know how you work. You tell yourself you're closed off from everyone, but in reality you open your heart to anyone with giving it a second thought. It's why you're such a screw up," Jeff chuckled softly, "but you're my screw up."

"Just stop," Morgan pleased, holding his hands up as though he were trying to appease Jeff, "I know what you're doing and it's not going to happen Jeff. I'm sorry about what I've done, but it doesn't change the fact that…that I fell for John."

Jeff's eyes widened for a second as she took in what Morgan said. "Did you? Is that what you think happened? See, I think you're wrong. That's not what happened. I don't think you know what you feel for John. You just…"

"No Jeff. Don't do this. You can't change what happened, or the fact that I…that I love John…" The words, although at first sounding foreign coming from Morgan's voice, suddenly felt as though they were right. Relief flooded through Morgan. It was a big step, and he had come through it okay. "I've gone about this whole thing all the wrong way, and I know. I've hurt people and done some shitty things. I can't take it back now, it's done. But I can at least try and makes things right now."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Jeff asked, eyes threatening to spill tears. "How can this ever be right?"

"By me being honest with you Jeff. For once."

Morgan's intake of breath was slow and laborious, as though he were trying to draw confidence out of the very air around him. "I'm love you Jeff. I do, don't think for a second that I don't have any feelings for you because I do. But I'm not in love with you. And as petty as it sounds, there is a difference. I am in love with John. It's taken me so long to figure that out, and in all likelihood it's probably too late already. But at least now you know."

"So you did feel something…but it's not enough…"Jeff shook his head sadly, trying his best to brush the tears off his cheeks before they fell. He wasn't doing a very good job.

"Please don't cry Jeff. I don't want to hurt you anymore, I just need you to understand how this all started. When I first met John, I felt something. I didn't know what it was then, and it scared the hell out of me. It had been so long since I'd honestly been open to possibility of love, that I didn't even know it when it started. And I don't think he realised what he felt for me until much later…"

Jeff nodded silently, unable to say anything that he felt would have any relevance. It was torture, but for some reason he felt he had to know the reason why the love of his life didn't love him as much back. "…eventually, we both realised that we had feelings for one another. He denied it, I denied it. I ran as far away from it as fast as I could…and that's when I found you. I'd crushed out on you for years, and you were so beautiful…inside and out. It was like I'd found the person I'd been looking for all my life. The one person who could just understand me and like me for who I was."

Morgan stopped, wiping away a stray tear gliding down his cheek. "And the lines blurred. What I felt for you in the beginning, somehow I became convinced that it was love. I know now that it was just my way of hiding myself away from John. It was like…he broke down every wall I had ever put around my heart to protect it from hurt. He just ploughed straight through and left me with nothing. I was so scared of getting hurt again, that I denied feeling anything for him…to his face and to myself…"

Morgan sniffed sadly, as though finally realising how he had been hurting himself as much as he had John. "…and you…you were like a shield. I put you between my heart and John. I knew that you would take of my heart, that you wouldn't let me be hurt. In return I gave you everything that I am physically, because I thought that would make it right. But I just used you to keep myself from feeling anything for John. I'm a terrible person, I know. I hurt everyone in every way I possibly could."

"I think I understand." Jeff sighed, feeling his heart slowly dying in his chest.

"You have to know I didn't want to hurt you Jeff," Morgan sniffed, "that's last thing I wanted to happen. I desperately wanted to feel everything I should for you, to make myself want you and not John. And I told John to stay away from me, I tried to forget him, but my heart just wouldn't let me. And when you proposed…and he came back into my life, I was so scared. I felt trapped and I knew no matter what I did someone was going to get hurt. I thought I was doing the right thing by saying yes to you…and I do love you Jeff, I do but…"

"But it's not enough," Jeff finished the sentence for him, "you figured out John was who you really wanted. You don't need to say anymore Morgan. I get it. I do."

Jeff covered his eyes for a moment, as if trying to shield his heartbreak from Morgan. "I know none of what I said can excuse what I did. And I understand if you never want to speak to me again Jeff…but I can't change the way I feel. I've fought it and hid from it as long as I possibly could, but I can't do that anymore. I can't keep running from everything just because I've been hurt in the past. I need to do what makes me happy. I realise that now, because I'm stronger. And that's because of you…"

Reaching out to take Jeff's hand, the Carolina native turned his back to Morgan, sniffing away the floods of tears. "Is that supposed to make me feel better Morgan? You think the knowledge that I helped you be strong enough to love someone else instead of me, makes me feel good?" Jeff turned to face Morgan, his eyes colder than ever before. "You think explaining all this to me makes it okay? All I know now is that all the while I thought we were happy, you were miserable. You used me, denied John, and kept the pretence up for as long as you could. Tell me Morgan, if John hadn't come in tonight, would you have gone through with out marriage? Would you have married me, knowing all the while you didn't love me?"

"I…" Morgan didn't know the answer. In his mind, he honestly wasn't sure if he would have gone through with everything. This did nothing to appease Jeff.

"You would have, wouldn't you? I can't believe you Morgan! You're a liar, a cheater and a coward. You're a manipulative little bastard and you played with my emotions just to save yourself. You evil son of a bitch!" Jeff's voice had risen to near screaming, his skin taking an angry red tone. "The whole fucking time! All the towards, the actions, the love-making…it was all a lie! All that time I gave you everything…and I had your body…but never your heart. That was always with John…wasn't it? Wasn't it!?"

"Yes…" Morgan whispered, not bothering to stop the tears.

'_Looking right at me, won't receive my plea. Tell me what you mean, I'm not what's on the screen. Thinking what will be. Fighting the fatigue. That's quite enough for me. Makes me wanna scream'_

Jeff looked ready to level Morgan with a punch. Instead, he turned and stormed across the dance floor. Picking up one of the tables set up on the edge for their celebration, he threw it the length of the room. It crashed against the floor, splintering the wood in a myriad of directions. Grabbing a near by chair, Jeff threw it just as hard, sending it spiralling through the air, only to smash into the ground with utter force.

Seemingly calming down somewhat, Jeff turned back to face Morgan. He walked with deliberate steps towards the singer, his unrelenting in their fury. Morgan refused to cower back. If Jeff wanted to take out his frustrations against him physically, then he would let him.

Jeff seized Morgan by either arm. His eye blazed in a mixture of anger and hurt, each jade pool boring into Morgan's eyes. They held the position for a moment longer, before Jeff leaned his head forward. He pushed lips against Morgan's with force, not caring about being gentle or loving, nor that Morgan wouldn't kiss him back.

Pulling back, Jeff touched his bottom lip with his thumb. "Nothing has changed Morgan. That was real. I still love you. In spite of all of this, my feelings for you won't change. You need to think this through properly. If you chose to be with John, then make sure he is what you want. Because I guarantee you life won't be easy. If people have difficulty accepting you and me together, they will have a meltdown over you and John Cena. Is he really prepared to give up everything for you? Maybe that's something you need to talk to him about. I don't think he's ready for that…and I don't think he's ready to love you like you need it."

Jeff shook his head, letting go of Morgan's arms. "But that's not my decision to make. I can only tell you how much I love you Morgan. The rest is up to you. Look, I'm heading out to North Carolina tomorrow night. I am staying at the Plaza in the centre of town. I've got a car booked ready to make the journey. I'll be leaving at nine o'clock. If you decide that you want to be with me, then I will be waiting for you."

"Jeff, I -…" Morgan started to speak, but Jeff cut him off.

"Don't say anything Morgan. I really want you to think long and hard about this. This is our last chance to make this work. If you still want to give us a try, I'll be waiting for you." Jeff smiled, silently hopeful that Morgan would come to him. "But if you don't, that will really be it for us. I'm driving home, and if you're not with me, then that will be for us. Do you understand that Morgan? This is our last chance."

Morgan nodded silently. Jeff smiled softly. Leaning down, he gently kissed Morgan's lips, caressing the side of his face with his thumb. "I'll see you tomorrow night then."

Holding one final lingering glance, Jeff turned and walked out of the room, leaving Morgan alone. As if the door closing behind Hardy acted as some kind of switch, the tears fell in their thousands from Morgan's eyes. His legs gave way, sending him dropping to his knees. Holding his head in his hands, Morgan's fears and heartbreaks for his entire life seemed to be finding an outlet in his tears.

'_It doesn't really matter, sometimes we run for cover, I'm always on the outside. You never seem to wonder, how much you make me suffer I speak it from the inside'_

Hugging himself, Morgan made no effort to stop them, thinking he would rather drown in his tears than bottle it anymore. He surprised himself at how much sorrow and pain he had been holding inside for all these years. It seemed finally, this whole experience had been the final straw that had tipped the young singer over the edge. And yet, as quickly as they had come, the tears stopped as the door opened behind him.

Not bothering to turn around to face whoever it was, Morgan tried to wipe at his tear streaked face. "If you're here to lecture me on my relationships, I suggest you take a number and I'll get back to you."

Whoever it was behind him made no effort to leave. Feeling annoyance ripple through his body, Morgan got to his feet, turning to face whoever it was. He jumped as he recognised the gentle features opposite him. The steely blue eyes looking on loving, the handsome mouth smiling softly.

"I think we need to talk." John admitted, taking a step further into the room.


	23. Words

**_A/N _****New chapter! Hooray! Another new chapter for your reading enjoyment. I thank you all for your reviews, as always, but particularly for the last chapter. I have to confess, it's one of my favourites that I've written. **

**This chapter, in some ways it's lighter than the last one, but I don't think it takes away from the emotions of the characters. Sometimes, I think words are overrated, and you can say something without actually saying it…**

**Anyways, enough of my rambles. I've had a few PM's from a few of you readers who are desperate for Morgan to end up with John/Jeff. I have to say, I am really touched at how passionate you guys feel about what I've written. All I can say, is that I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**One more chapter to go guys. And then my baby will be finished. Kind of mixed emotions about it, for so many reasons, but I really think by the end I'll have taken these characters where they need to go. Thank you for coming along for the ride.**

**I'm loathe to give 'dedications' to people, as I value every single one of you who reads my story, and especially those of you who leave me reviews. But, for personal reasons, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Vera Roberts. She has inspired me in so many ways through these final chapters. Be it in her guiding PM's, or just from reading her amazing work, I've felt inspired to be better. So Vera, this one is for you.**

**Please read and review. Please? I disclaim. Lyrics are from 'Chasing Cars' by Snow Patrol. My favourite song at the moment. If you don't have it, I suggest you go get it. Ask me, and I'll even send it you I'm that in love with it! Please R&R! 1 Chapter to go…**

* * *

_We'll do it all, everything, on our own. We don't need anything, or anyone. _

If Morgan found being in a room full of silence with Jeff Hardy difficult, it was a completely different ball game being with John Cena. They had been apart for so long, and anytime they had spent together in the interim and been full of heated exchanges and explosions of passion.

And now all that had been stripped away. Everything that had been said and done, everything that should have been done differently and handled better - it was all washed away. Everything between them had been aired, be it together in private or in public. For the first time in their 'relationship', there was nothing between John Cena and Morgan Lee. That simple notion petrified them both.

Everything John had been desperate to say, all the hurt and hope and love that been building for so long had felt like a volcano moments ago. It was as primal as it was unstoppable. The flow of his feelings had finally found their outlet in Morgan. But being in the same room as him, words escaped him. All the things he had desperately wanted to convey moments ago had pottered away into nothingness. Silence hung between them, and John could find nothing to break it.

Morgan faired no better. Every single scrap of protection and shielding he had ever created for himself had been stripped away. Whether Morgan had wanted it or not, John truly had broken through his strongest defences. He found a place in Morgan's heart and was determined not to let go. Words had always been Morgan's strong point, but the dryness in his mouth told him they had gone on a permanent hiatus. He knew there were so many things he should be saying right now. Hell, he had finally found the courage within himself to bare everything to Jeff, clearly John should be a walk through.

Perhaps not.

It was strange. The one person you connect with the most, the one you feel so much for, why is it always so hard to tell them what you really feel? Is it really so that once you fall in love, you begin to lose all capacity for reason and logic? Morgan and John were certainly starting to think so.

_If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world? _

For Morgan's part, he'd been institutionalised into thinking he needed to tell people what they wanted to hear, rather than what he felt. And as opposites attract, John could not have been any more different. It's not that he didn't know what he wanted to say. He certainly knew what he felt, but the words to express it just would not come.

Sticking his hands into the pockets of his combat pants, John glanced uncomfortably around the room, vaguely taking in the destruction caused by Jeff moments earlier. But that shouldn't matter right now. John finally had the chance to tell the person that he loved that very thing - he was in love. And it was with Morgan Lee. John honestly couldn't believe, even now, how far he had come. Twelve months ago, he was a closed emotionally; a vapid mess who was so entrenched in the black and white nature of human emotion and love that he would never consider the possibility of evening looking beyond that.

Now? John felt as though he had been completely deconstructed, and put back together again. Everything he thought he had known, every absolute he had ever felt didn't apply any more. He had said and done things the 'old' him would never have thought possible. In the process he'd learned so much about love and life, he'd had his heartbroken and his confidence broken. And yet he still came back for more. No matter how difficult things had become and however Morgan had acted out, John had always - and would always - come back for more. If that wasn't real love, John didn't know what else could possibly count. His name and reputation as one of the 'boys' was probably long since ruined. And for the first time, John Cena could care less. Nothing mattered now. Nothing besides Morgan.

_I don't quite know, how to say, how I feel. Those three words are said too much. They're not enough _

Looking up at John through a curtain of dark lashes, Morgan's bottom lip quivered. He honestly didn't think he had any tears left in him. But he supposed it would be predictable. If anyone could draw emotions out of him at this level of exhaustion, it would have to be John Cena.

"I like the woodwork." Morgan suddenly blurted from nowhere, glancing around at the wood panelling on the lower section of the room's walls. John glanced upwards, taken slightly off guard by the sudden sound of Morgan's voice. He hadn't been expecting a sound, let alone Morgan to speak.

"It's nice," John agreed, "but when I said I wanted to talk? Interior design wasn't exactly what I imagining…" Smiling softly, John felt his heart turn over as the corners of Morgan's mouth turned into a slight smile.

"Alright." Morgan's voice, not without it's fair share of hesitancy was slightly stronger than before, as he got a better control over his own nerves.

"I really want to apologise, for what happened before," John blushed, the memory of his actions during Morgan and Jeff's engagement celebration still fresh in his mind, "I never meant for it to go down like that. I didn't even come here with the intention of doing anything. It's just…"John's voice faltered as he tried to find the right words. "…things just got so twisted in my head. When I saw you on that stage with Jeff, when he was telling you how much he loved you…I just lost it. For the first time, it actually became real to me that we weren't going to be together…"

Morgan nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his own jeans. "…I just felt like - like it should have been me up on that stage with you, telling everyone I care about that you're the one for me. I just wasn't ready to accept the fact that we weren't going to be…together…"

_If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world? _

_Forget what we're told Before we get too old Show me a garden that's bursting into life_

John sighed, his own words making dent after dent into his heart. Putting into words the fact that the person you love wants someone else was almost more than he could bear. Luckily for him, Morgan had something to say.

"I never wanted it to get this far," Morgan admitted in his soft British inflection, "I made such a mess of everything. None of this is your fault, or Jeff's. I just let this whole…I don't even know what the fuck this thing is between the three of us…but I let it spiral into the shit fest that it is now. I'm sorry that I've hurt you. I didn't want that. I didn't want to hurt anyone…"

_Let's waste time, chasing cars around our heads. I need your grace to remind me to find my own _

"You're not the only one to blame Morgan," John smiled as reassuringly as he could, "I didn't exactly make it easy for you. I knew you were struggling with your feelings, and I just kept pushing and pushing. I guess in the end, I pushed you right to Jeff. I know now that I can't make you feel the same way as me. If you being happy means that you're not with me, then I think I can deal with that…or at least I can try to."

"Everyone wants little old me to be happy," Morgan chuckled bitterly, "why is that? The stuff that I've pulled this year, and all anyone cares about is making sure that I'm happy. Isn't anyone concerned with telling me how much of a dick I am?"

John chuckled, taking a few steps towards Morgan. "It's because we care." He offered simply, closing the distance between himself and Morgan. "It's because I care."

Turning to face John, Morgan's squared his shoulders, the final words exchanged with Jeff playing over in his mind. "But do you care enough?"

"I don't understand." John admitted, both steely blue eyes clouded over in confusion.

"Don't think I don't appreciate the feeling behind what you did today. I do, really. In a fantasy world that would be enough to make us happy, some grand sweeping gesture and we would run away together and everyone would be supportive. But this is the real world John. Do you have any comprehension of what it would mean for you to be with me? What happened tonight is just a taster of what can happen." Morgan searched John's eyes for understanding.

"It's not just the disapproval and freezing out from your friends, how do you think your father and brother's will react when they know that you've become a fag?" John looked up sharply into Morgan's eyes.

"You hate that word." He reminded Morgan.

"Of course I hate the word; I hate everything it means and what it stands for. But that doesn't stop people using it or thinking it. And it's what your friends and family will think of you. I know you John, better than you realise. You were raised with a strong masculinity ethic, and it's not necessarily a bad thing. But I can cope with the bigotry and closed mindedness from everyone and their mother because I'm gay. They can't say anything I haven't already heard, and I honestly stopped caring years ago. So much so now I can barely contain my indifference of the narrow minded fuckwits." Morgan chuckled softly at his own words.

"I can cope with anything John. But you're not me." Morgan looked into John's eyes, seeing the spark of understanding in the grey orbs.

"Could you really cope with your family disowning you, or with the great Conservative nation of America labelling you a paedophile and deviant just because some ancient book says you're intrinsically wrong? This is how the world works John. I'm not saying everyone will view you negatively, but this won't be a picnic." Morgan licked his lips, knowing full well what it meant to be gay.

"You will never be left alone; you will never be accepted for being who are. You're going to be labelled gay and less than a man. I don't believe for a second that you are gay. No one with your fashion sense could ever play on my team," John smirked at Morgan's brand of humour, "but that won't stop everyone else thinking you are. So you need to ask yourself, are you really prepared to give everything up for me? Is everything you are worth sacrificing for the person who couldn't even admit they love you until about five minutes ago?"

_If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world? _

_Forget what we're told, before we get too old. Show me a garden that's bursting into life_

John seemed to consider what Morgan said, taking every word and sentence to heart. His head dipped as his finger stroked over his chin. Glancing back up, John couldn't hold back the smile on his lips. "Did you just say…you love me…?"

"What?" Came Morgan's confused reply.

"Did you just say, that you love me?" John repeated, stepping even closer to Morgan.

"Yes, but I don't see what -…" Morgan was cut off as John spoke again.

"Would you say it again?" Barely able to keep the wave of emotion down, John could feel his skin tingling in anticipation for those 'three words' from Morgan.

With a confused look in his eye, Morgan slowly repeated what he had said. "John, I love y-…"

Not given a chance to finish his word, John attacked Morgan's mouth with his own. The plump flesh of John's lips bruised at Morgan's soft mouth, at their tongues twisted in a knee buckling kiss. John's strong arms wrapped around Morgan's lower back, the singer's own arms instinctively finding their way around John's neck. Cena's lips were searching and urgent, as though they were trying to claim Morgan's very soul. The slow twirl of his tongue tortured the inside of Morgan's mouth until he cried out, burning his lips into John's with everything he could.

_All that I am, all that I ever was is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see. _

_I don't know where, confused about how as well. I just know that these things will never change for us at all _

John thought the kiss would go on, lasting forever until the end of time. Of course, Morgan had to pull back because he felt himself go light headed, as much from the kiss as it was due to the lack of oxygen. Firmly wrapped in John's embrace, Morgan traced the curve of his cheek with the tip of his thumb, his heart turning over as he saw the loving smile curve Cena's mouth.

"I thought…that…you didn't want…" John looked tenderly into Morgan's eyes as the singer tried to form words. "…I don't know what I thought."

"I want you Morgan. I love you so deeply I don't think I could ever get rid of the feeling, even if I wanted to." John rested his forehead against Morgan's, gently squeezing his hips in his large hands. "I just wish you knew that."

"I know." Morgan replied, melting his lips against John's again in an effort to silence the larger man's doubts. "But I'm just afraid that…"

"No. Don't say anything else. I need to say this or I never will…" Lowering his hands down over the curve of Morgan's thighs, John took the singer's hands into his own. "I've really thought a lot about what you said Morgan. I have. I know this isn't going to be easy. It's going to suck in the worst way. It could be that the company fires me and I lose all my friends and family. But I don't care. If that's the price I have to pay to be with the guy that I am in love with…then it's not a price at all."

"But I can't ask you to give everything up, just so you can be with me." Morgan protested, feeling as though he were slipping back into old habits of trying to find reasons of why he and John shouldn't be together.

"You don't have to ask," John assured, cupping Morgan's cheek and jaw in his hand, "I would do this anyway. Before you, I didn't just not know about being with another man, I feel like I didn't know anything about relationships. Everything I thought I knew is gone now Morgan, and I have to start learning all over again. It's going to take time, and I'm not going to get it right all the time. I don't know how good a boyfriend I'll be. I can and will make mistakes, but I just need you to be there and show me what you need. I promise you I will be everything you need…you've just got to show me how, okay?"

Both of John's hands rested on the curve of Morgan's neck, his thumbs tracing back and forth of his jaw line. "Are you sure…?"

Leaning forward, John gently let his lips brush against Morgan's. "I'm sure."

Morgan's lips curved into a bright smile, his almost bursting from the emotions they expressed. John found the smile both infectious and heartfelt. Wrapping his arms around Morgan, He drew him close to his body, crushing his slender form against his chest, Morgan's hands wrapped over John's shoulder blades, pulling his head closer so he could capture his lips in another kiss. It was slow and teasing, as Morgan's tongue intertwined with that of John's.

John pulled back, smiling sweetly as his hands explored the length of Morgan's back. "So, what happens next?"

"I guess I need to tell Jeff," Morgan whispered, his hands feeling their way over the curve of John's buttocks. "If what you said didn't kill him, it's going to finish him for sure. I really don't want to hurt him John, really he doesn't deserve this."

"I know," John whispered, kissing the top of Morgan's head, "I know how it would feel if I was in his shoes. But you've got to be straight with him. Honesty is the most you can offer him now, however much it'll hurt. I'll talk to him with you, if you want?"

"No, I think it'd be better if I talk to him by myself." Morgan nodded slightly at his own resolve. "I think if we ganged up on him, he'd flip out…and probably smack you again."

John chuckled, kissing the pillow of Morgan's right cheek. "Alright. You can tell him. He'll be okay Morgan. He'll just need time to -…"

The word 'time' sent alarm bells ringing in Morgan's head, forcing him to cut John off mid sentence. "Shit! What time is it?" Morgan grabbed John's wrist, twisting it so he could see the face of John's watch. Much to his horror, Morgan could see how late he was. "I have to go. I'm supposed to be putting on a show in an hour…I have to get back to the arena…"

John took Morgan's hand as she took off at a pace towards the door to the room. John fell into step at Morgan's side, feeling a little put out that he wasn't be given the chance to say everything he felt needed to be said. Heading out into the lobby, Morgan was almost at the door before John spoke up.

"Wait!" John stopped Morgan mid step, turning him back to face him. "Wait, I feel like there's more I need to say…"

Morgan smiled softly, capturing John's lips in a gentle kiss. "It doesn't matter now baby. We're together now, alright? From here on out, all we've got is time."

John smiled against Morgan's lips, placing his hands on the back of his boyfriend's neck. "Okay. Can you come and see me later? I'd really like us to talk more. Come by my hotel room, say around eight?"

Morgan shook his head softly. "I'm not going to be off stage until midnight, at the earliest. Can I come by after that?"

It was John's turn to shake his head. His cheeks puffed outwards as the sigh escaped from between his pursed lips. "We're leaving for Carolina tonight at nine-thirty. I have to be on a plane and flying. I've got promotion and shit to be done." John scowled sadly. "I don't want to go without talking to you before."

"Well, I can come with you." Morgan smiled, the idea taking shape in his mind. "I don't have another show until next Tuesday. I can't miss it because it's being televised, but maybe we could have the weekend?"

John's eyes brightened at the idea, stealing Morgan's breath away with another kiss. "That'll work out great. Right after I'm done with the signing, I've got nothing on. We can have the weekend to just be with each other. Fuck! This'll be amazing."

"An entire weekend? We'll have to find something to do to fill up the time…" Morgan kissed John's bottom lips teasingly, sucking the flesh into his mouth, tasting it with his tongue and pulling gently with his teeth. John groaned into Morgan's mouth, pushing him back against a wall as he deepened the kiss.

"I…can…definitely think…of a few…oh god…things I can do to you…I mean…with you…" John pushed his hand up against the wall, trying to solidify his shaky legs as Morgan attacked his neck and throat with burning kisses. Morgan's eyes fell across John's watch, immediately pushing him backwards as he moved with haste towards the door.

"I'm really, really late now." Morgan scurried towards the exit of the club, John following pursuit.

"Alright. I'll let you go," John said begrudgingly, pulling Morgan into his arms. "I'll leave a ticket for you at the desk with the concierge. I'll leave it with an envelope, under my name, okay?" Morgan nodded profusely. "Morgan, I love you. It's really hard for me to let you go right now. Once you get on the plane, and I meet you in Carolina, I am never letting you go again. Just, please be on that plane. Please?"

John blushed slightly at the strength of emotion behind his own voice. The colour ebbed away as Morgan touched his hand to John's face. "I love you too John. You think after the hell I went through to accept it, that I'd ever let you go? You just try and stop me from coming after you. You leave that plane ticket, and I'll be following after you. Promise?"

"Promise." John smiled softly, resting his forehead against Morgan's head. John loosened his grip, taking a step backwards, never taking his eyes of Morgan's oceanic blue depths. "I guess I have a plane ticket to buy."

"And I've got a show to do. I love you." Morgan pushed the door open, moving to the right.

"I love you. I miss you already." John smiled out into the waning afternoon light, turning to the left. Both men held each other's gaze for a moment, before running off in their own separate directions.

The door to the club lobby swung to close, leaving it in dimmed silence.

Almost.

From a darkened corner of the lobby, something stirred. Stepping out into the dancing light of the tubed lights running over ahead, Ashley Massaro brushed the back of her hand at the cheek of her face. Think rivers of mascara stained her porcelain cheeks, her mouth twisted into silent, heart-broken agony. Sniffing softly, she choked back a sob, causing a fresh flood of tears to spill forth.

Through the sobs, she managed to form three simple words.

"What about me…?"

_If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?_


	24. Choices

**_A/N:_ Update. Okay, so I know I said this would be the last chapter. Well, as I've been writing this, I realised it was just too damn big to be one. So I've split it into two parts. The first is now being updated for your reading pleasure.**

**As ever, I am so thankful to each and everyone of you for reading my story. It really does mean so much to me to know you're reading and enjoying my work. Please read and review! Part two will be up tomorrow! I disclaim!**

* * *

John Cena's grin was both obvious and infectious. Scurrying down the sidewalk as fast as his bulked up calf muscles would carry him, no-one could deny the happy aura which radiated from him. From the quickness in his step, to the goofy grin that curved this thick lips in a million-dollar smile. He was just happy.

And why shouldn't he be? Finally, after months of angst filled lonely nights, heated conversations and heart breaking fights, he had the one thing he wanted. Morgan. Morgan had seemingly stopped fighting John on the idea that they should be together, and now wanted to be with him for the rest of his life. Which was fine by John Cena. Everything he had gone through in order to be with Morgan, John knew it was worth it. Sure, he wasn't sure how good a boyfriend he would be, or how he was going to deal with his father finding out that he was now dating another man. But they were tomorrows problems. Right now, John wanted to bask in the bliss that warmed his heart.

It had been a long road to happy, but he was finally there. And damn him if he wasn't going to show it. Shrugging his shoulders slightly, John sighed up at the sky. Even the faint roll of clouds didn't have any effect on his mood. The exhalation of breath was the kind only people in love gave. Sighing for the only reason that they were entirely content with the world, that everything was as it should be, and would be that way forever. Chuckling softly to himself, John stood to the side to allow an aging couple through the entrance of the hotel.

Stepping inside the lobby, he made his way straight towards the reception desk. The floor stretched out in front of him, full of the comings and goings of those staying in the hotel. John found himself smiling in turn to each person that crossed his path. Some smiled back, others looked at him as though he'd been smoking something hallucinatory.

Taking his place in the queue for the front desk, John couldn't help but glance up towards the stairwell. Smiling serenely, he could only imagine his boyfriend's room full of little things that made it inherently 'Morgan'. John could already imagine the explosion on clothes across the floor, or the acoustic guitar propped up against a chair. Grinning, John knew full well Morgan would go no where without that particular instrument. In fact, the wrestler was so caught up in in daydreaming that he didn't realise that it was his turn to be attended to by the concierge.

"Can I help you sir?" The man's affected accent brought John back to the here and now. Slowly turning his head to face the concierge, John let the smile curve his mouth. The man stood behind the desk looked less than impressed. He looked positively uncomfortable in the deep red tunic he was strapped into, fiddling with growing urgency with the white gloves on his hands.

"Yeah, actually you can." John smiled. Reaching into his back pocket, he extracted a simple brown envelope. It was unmarked, and sealed at the back. The only blemish across the front was 'Morgan', sprawled in thick black marker. Sliding it across the surface of the counter, John held serious eye contact with the concierge.

"I need you to give this envelope to someone," John explained, lowering his head slightly. The concierge followed suit, as though straining to hear what John was saying. "A guy is going to come and collect this in a few hours. His name is Morgan Lee. He's got dark blonde hair that falls down into his eyes…it covers his beautiful cheek bones…and his eyes…god, they are the bluest I have ever seen in my life…" Realising he was rambling somewhat, John forced himself to stay on topic.

"He's coming to pick this up from you, at this desk tonight. I need it left under my name…John Cena." The concierge nodded, reaching to take the envelope. John pulled it back slightly. "It is vital that he gets this envelope, okay? His name is Morgan, and he will ask for anything left under the name John Cena. You need to make sure you give this to the right person, okay? He has to get this envelope, no matter what. Do you understand?"

Looking slightly bemused, as though John were insulting his intelligence, the concierge nodded briskly. "Envelope for Morgan Lee, under the name of John Cena. He must get it under any circumstances. Have no fear sir." The hotel assistant took the envelope from John, placing it beneath the counter in a hidden compartment.

"You're sure he'll get that? Listen dude, I don't mean to go on at you, but I have to know that you'll give this envelope to him. My future happiness kinda depends on him getting it." John peered into the mans eyes, trying to impress on him the importance that the envelope signified.

"Of course sir." John smiled, almost relieved. Turning to walk away, he was stopped by the concierge speaking again. "I will make sure, come hell or high water, that your friend gets the envelope."

In taking a deep breath, John turned back to look at the concierge. Nervously clenching his fists, John's mouth twitched slightly. "He's not my friend…he's…he's my boyfriend…" The concierge simply nodded, the monumental admission from the wrestler meaning nothing to him.

Exhaling slowly, John continued walking, heading for the stairs attached to the lobby. Feeling his heart pounding in his chest, he tucked his baseball cap down lower over his eyes. _That was going to take some getting used to. _Smiling to himself, John took the steps two at a time, rushing to reach his own room.

In the corner of the lobby, Ashley Massaro stepped forward. Her hair was pulled back from her face into a harsh ponytail, her doe eyes shielded behind a pair of sunglasses. Hugging her arms around her body, her petit form seemed to drown in the thick brown overcoat she had on. Reaching her hand up, she carefully removed the dark shades from her face. They revealed a pair of angry red eyes, puffy from hours on continuous crying. Looking from the concierges' desk, and then to the stair, Ashley couldn't help the beads of tears tumbling over cheeks.

Stepping towards the centre of the lobby, Ashley was powerless to stop her tiny hand clutching at her chest. Choking back a fit of violent sobs, she felt as though her world were crashing down around her. All her dreams and hopes of happiness had been splintered, shattering to nothingness. All that it left behind was a broken hearted woman.

As though she were operating on automatic, Ashley felt her feet lead her further into the lobby, all the while approaching the main desk. Tears stained her eyes to the point where she could no longer see clearly. Yet she made no attempt to brush them away. The plump flesh of her bottom lip trembled uncontrollably as her exhausted mind tried to _understand_ what had happened. Where had she gone wrong?

Ashley knew that she had cheated on John in their past. There really was no excuse for that. But she had honestly believed that they were past all that. She had believed that they were as happy and in love as they had always been. _How could I have been so blind? _Ashley had been in the crowd of wrestlers during John's confession. As though she meant absolutely nothing to him, she found out - along with everyone else, that John had been seeing Morgan. They had been lovers, and she had no idea. The cheating aspect aside, Ashley wasn't sure which hurt her the most. Was it the fact that John's heart belonged to someone else, that he had been living a lie with her? Or maybe it was because when everything went down - when the truth was outed so to speak, everyone had become besides themselves over Jeff Hardy, and how he must be hurting. Not a single person had considered how heart broken she would be by the admission.

Indeed, in the hours following John's revelation, he had not spoken to her. He hadn't even phoned her to ask how she was, to offer some explanation to what had happened. She had just been left alone to deal with the full weight of the knowledge that John wasn't in love with her. Everything had been a lie.

Clapping her hand over her mouth, Ashley kept the sob that bubbled around in the depth of her throat from escaping. Why did this happen? Had she really been so stupid as to not see any of it going on? Was she so oblivious to John and his emotions that she couldn't tell he was cheating? Ashley wasn't stupid. She had felt the distance between them since they had gotten back together. She knew things were different. But being the girl she was, Ashley had blamed herself for it. She imagined that John was keep himself at a distance to protect his heart. After all, Ashley had cheated on him. It would take time for him to trust her again.

It was clear to Ashley now, that she had totally and utterly misread the situation. John wasn't keeping his distance because he was afraid of being hurt at all. He was doing it because he was sleeping with Morgan behind her back. Fists clenching at her sides, Ashley felt a chilling wave of indignance rushing through her body. How could he do that to her? Was this some kind of payback for her episode with Chris Masters? Did she have this coming.

"Can I help you miss?" The subtly irritated voice of the concierge tore Ashley out of the self imposed torture she was dealing with. Slowly tracing her tongue across her bottom lips, her eyes focused on the man before her. _What am I doing here?_

"I'll give you five hundred dollars if you've give me the envelope John just gave you." The concierge looked visibly stunned at Ashley's offer. And she in turn was equally as stunned herself. What on earth did she say that for? For some reason, Ashley's mouth was speaking of its own volition. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was voicing the darker impulses inside. Maybe it was the twisted snarl of revenge desperate to be free. And yet, maybe it was a truly pitifully desperate woman clawing at what left of the life she had.

"I'm sorry Miss, but I can't do that." Looking decidedly nervous, the concierge slowly glanced around the lobby, as if to look for someone watching him. Like this was some kind of test to his resolve.

"Please. I'll give you whatever you want…just give me the envelope. " Hands splayed out on the counter, Ashley was flat out begging, but she didn't care. That envelope. It was the key to keeping John, to keeping her heart from disintegrating entirely.

As the concierge shook his head, Ashley delved her hands into her purse, retrieving a wad of notes. Counting them out as best she could, Ashley felt the mild-hysteria bubbling in the pit of her stomach. "Here is…eight-hundred and thirty dollars. That's all I have on me right now…but I can get more. A thousand…two thousand…then thousand…name your price…whatever you want. Just please, give me that envelope."

The concierge looked at Ashley, eyes clouded over in decision. After what seemed like an eternity of deliberation, his gloved hands appeared from beneath the counter. With one hand, he scooped up the sea of notes resting on the counter. Firmly tucking them into his breast pocket, he carefully handed the envelope to Ashley. "Mr. Cena can't know-…"

The man was cut off by Ashley. "We won't tell him anything. It'll be our secret…thank you." Clutching the man's hand in her own, Ashley smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. The concierge backed away from the desk, eyes cast down to the floor. Holding the envelope to her chest, Ashley turned away from the desk…and walked straight into Jeff Hardy.

"Ashley…what are you doing? What have you got there?" Panic screamed in Ashley's head, forcing her to hold the envelope even closer to her body. She hadn't counted on seeing anyone she knew, let alone Jeff Hardy. Ashley reasoned with herself, that if anyone was going to understand what she was going through, it could only be Jeff Hardy.

"This has to end," Ashley mumbled, hands clenching around the envelope, "they can't carry on hurting people. Don't you see…I have to stop him from…from…" Ashley's voice drowned in the wave of sobs rushing from her throat. Jeff's jade green eyes softened considerably. Leaning forward, he gently took the crying woman into his arms. His hands ran soothingly over her back, stroking away at the pain and anguish consuming her. Carefully, he took the envelope from her hands. Peeling open the flap, he pulled out a plane ticket, along with an accompanying letter.

His eyes narrowed as he took in what the letter said : -

Morgan,

As promised, here is the plane ticket for you to come fly to Carolina with me. I hope you don't think I'm a chicken, but the only way I can tell you how much I love you is by putting it down in words. You make me happier than I've ever felt in my life. I can't explain it. I don't think I want to. Words wouldn't ever match what I feel for you. It excites me, because I know it's only going to grow with each passing day we're together. I know we're going to be alright Morgan. My heart tells me that much. And that's because I promise that I am going to love for every day that's left in my life. Nothing will ever change that. You have to know that I will never do anything to hurt you. Your happiness means more to me than anything else. So, I hope your show went well, and I can't wait to see you later on tonight. Or will it be tomorrow morning? I'm not sure. But I checked it over with the bosses, and I've delayed my flight to match yours. So shift your cute ass from the hotel and come meet me. I'll be waiting for you. I can't wait anymore to have you back in my arms again. I love you Morgan. I'll see you soon.

Yours forever and for always,

J.C

High over head, thunder rumbled, echoing in the high ceilings of the lobby. To Jeff, the sound was like his own heart breaking deafening in his ears.

So that was it.

Morgan had chosen. He was definitely going to Carolina, but it was with John Cena. Jeff's eyes clouded over with a fresh pool of tears. Ashley, now getting some semblance of control over her emotions, took the letter from Jeff's trembling fingers. The words written on the page confirmed the truth she was desperate to not be so. Tears fell in renewed rivers over her cheeks, as the blonde raised her eyes to lock with Jeff's.

"They can't do this Jeff," Ashley whispered, "they just…can't…"

"I think it's pretty clear. They've both made their choices. We just have to respect them." Jeff sighed softly. Taking the letter back from Ashley, he tucked it carefully back into the envelope, along with the plane ticket.

"No. This is all wrong!" Ashley exclaimed, snatching the envelope away from Jeff's hands. "It shouldn't be like this! We were happy. I was happy. We were going to be married…we were going to love each other forever. This just can't be."

"I know Ashley," Jeff struggled to speak at the tightness in his throat, "I know exactly how that feels. But you need to give me that envelope. It belongs to Morgan, not us."

"Morgan!" Ashley was reaching hysterical levels, attracting the attention of the people in the lobby. "Why is everyone so concerned with that little shit? Huh? Tell me Jeff. Is this letter really worth losing the person you love? If Morgan means as much to you as you say, are you just going to let him get on a plane and fly off into happily ever after with my fiancé?"

"What choice do I have?" Jeff seemed bewildered, not having the strength to deal with someone else's heartbreak, as well as his own.

"You always have a choice Jeff," Ashley explained, putting on the best 'calm' front she was capable of, "it might not be a nice choice, but you do have a choice."

Looking up sceptically, Jeff clearly didn't like where Ashley was heading. "What do you mean? What choice do I have?"

"We can make it so they never see each other again," Ashley explained, eyes glittering with hope, "if we work together, we can break Morgan and John apart and make sure they stay out of each other's lives. Then, after some time has past, they'll both realise how foolish they were being, and they'll come back to us. They'll see…"

"No. Ashley we can't." Jeff shook his head solemnly. That was the worst possible thing they could do. Jeff knew how wrong it would be to keep two people in love separate.

"Yes we can. And we will." Ashley grabbed Jeff's forearm, her eyes burning into his. "You love Morgan, and I love John. There was a time when they loved us back. It can be like it was Jeff. We can both be with the people that we love, and they'll love us back. They did once, they can do it again." Jeff's face faltered, as though he was actually considering what Ashley was saying.

Sensing her advantage, Ashley pushed on. "I love John Cena with all my heart. And he loves me too. I made a mistake before…that's the only reason why he's doing this. I broke his heart, and now he's trying to bury his feelings for me behind Morgan. It's understandable, but I can't continue. The same with Morgan. I know you love him, but the kid has issues. I think he's trying to prove some kind of point by being with John. We all know its not going to work between them Jeff. It would be kinder of us to break it off now, while we still can. Before they get too involved. It'll be quick and painless for them. And we'll be there to help them through it…"

Jeff ran his hand back through his hair. Maybe it was his broken emotional state, but what Ashley was saying made more sense than he wanted to admit. Maybe it would be for the best to keep them apart. After all, all Jeff had to do was make sure Morgan didn't get on that plane. He'd get over John soon enough, and would come back to Jeff. Maybe Jeff could save his relationship with Morgan.

A particularly loud rumble of thunder made Jeff's mind jolt back to reality. What was he thinking. Of course he couldn't do that. Morgan was in love with John. However much that hurt, Jeff knew that if he truly loved Morgan, he would have to let him go.

Looking up into Ashley's eyes, her face fell as Jeff slowly shook his head. "No Ashley. That's wrong, and you know it is. They love each other, and they should be given the chance to be together. I need you to give me the envelope. C'mon Ashley, please don't make a scene out of this."

Holding out his hand to Ashley, Jeff looked softly into her eyes. He could relate to how awful she was feeling. But deep down, he knew she would regret this course of action if he allowed her to take it. Breaking down into fierce sobs, Ashley reluctantly handed the envelope to Jeff. Tucking it inside his back pocket, Jeff gently kissed Ashley's head.

"Maybe you should say goodbye to John, before he flies?" Jeff held Ashley's face in his hand, brushing at the tears with his thumbs. Sniffing, Ashley slowly nodded her head. Stepping away from Jeff, she headed for the stairs. Casting once last look at Jeff, Ashley headed up to John's floor.


	25. The Lies We Tell Ourselves

**_A/N_ Update. The last chapter. Yes, we are finally here boys and girls. Whilst I say this is the last 'chapter', there will be an epilogue to follow this. After you read what's written, you'll probably understand why.**

**On that topic, my one time _'Beta' _reader expressed a concern over what I've done with this chapter. I'm not going to go into depth over what it was because I want you to read the story. But I thank her so very much for taking the time to help me out in my hour need, and for telling me straight what she thought. If anyone does want an explanation as to 'why' about anything in this chapter, send me a PM/mail and I will happily discuss it with you.**

**I can't tell you guys what an amazing journey this story has been, creatively, personally and emotionally. I am so grateful to each and every single one of you who has read this story - who has been with me every step of the way. Your support and encouragement really has been a source of strength to me for this story. So many times I've considered pulling this story, but there was always someone posting a review/sending a PM or e-mail to tell me how much they've connected with what I wrote. As a writer, that to me is the biggest compliment I could ever receive.**

**My thanks go to _Angelicbeing510, BabyJ76, Edge'sLady1981, HellCat's Punk, JamesPotterEvans, Kaikan, Matty1, Mrs Bridget Orton, Tacoto the 12, Unleashed From Within, Vera Roberts, Wrestlemania21, buff vamp, grleviathan, keddie6, pinkstarsx, shannygoat, xXx Miss Pedigree xXx - _all of you amazing people have this story as a favourite. Thank you so much.**

**Thanks to _DJFireHawy, Disaray, McCool144, SRC, cenauniversitygrad, coldhOpe, deathrockersux, losingmymind2, Tay_ and _bryanmandingo_. You've got my story on 'alert', or you have reviewed my story. Thank you for your dedication and support.**

**Alhazred - Thank you so much for your e-mails. Your words truly touched me, and validated everything I have done with this story. I'm very much looking forward to reading the story that has been 'ten years in the making'.**

**_Kim_ - As ever, you have been with me from the very beginning. You are always reviewing everything I write without fail. Thank you so much for being with me from the beginning.**

**_Vera _- As always, I am in awe of your talent. Your reviews have been a source of inspiration and strength to me, and I can't ever thank you enough. It's because of you that this story is finished. Thank you.**

**_Rae_ - Like I've already told you, you deserve credit for this story as much as I do. You've been there since I came to FF, and as ever you are a source of constant guidance. I could not have done this without you, and hope you'll accept my humble dedication of this chapter to your name.**

**_Shanny_ - My favourite slash writer. Like I've told you a dozen times, you have inspired me so much with all works, (not just 'The Edge…') to continue this story and to better it. You have a such a knack for 'people' that I am always trying to live up to your praise. In actual fact, I'm just in general awe of the greatness that is your writing. So, I would like to dedicate this story in its entirety to you. Thank you for everything.**

**Thank you to every reader out there who doesn't have me listed for anything, or who hasn't reviewed. As you number into the hundreds, I can't individually thank you all like I want to. But thank you for reading this story. I really hope you've enjoyed the journey we've all taken together. **

**So, on with the story…**

* * *

Softly, Ashley's shaking knuckles rapped against John Cena's door. From the inside, she heard the deep tone of his voice, giving her permission to come in. 

Pushing the door slightly open, she peered into the room. Smiling softly, John was hurriedly packing clothes into his suitcase. He hadn't looked up to see Ashley's meek face poking through the door. Slowly stepping into the room, she pushed the door closed behind her, eyes watching John as he failed to notice her.

"So that's it? No goodbye? No explanation?" John immediately straightened, looking up to see Ashley's tear filled eyes.

"Ashley…" A world full of realisations hit John with the force of a truck. In all the chaos and insanity that had been his relationship with Morgan, he hadn't once thought about Ashley. She hadn't crossed his mind once. Sure, he had been worried into sleepless nights about how Jeff would react. But through the midst of the drama, even he had failed to even consider how Ashley would cope with the news.

"So you do remember who I am." She smiled bitterly, wrapping her arms around her body.

"I am so sorry," John began. Dropping a tee shirt he had been holding, John moved towards her. She immediately backed up against the wall, her back connecting with a muted thud. "I'm sorry." John repeated. "You shouldn't have found out the way you did. I should have told you sooner. I didn't think…"

"No. You never do. That's your problem." Ashley licked her lips in a lizard like fashion. "You don't think about how your actions hurt other people. You just go straight ahead without caring. As long as you get what you want, it doesn't matter who else gets hurt in the process."

John's eyes shifted downwards to study the carpet. "Wait, that's not true." Ashley corrected herself. "You did care. You were cut up about how what you did broke Jeff Hardy's heart. But not once did you think of me in all this. Admit it. You didn't even think of my feelings through any of this."

"It's true." Ashley was taken back slightly by John's candid honesty. "I didn't think about you at all. And I'm sorry."

"Why?" Ashley's face broke into a river of tears, "You asked me to marry you John, and I said yes. How could you have done that if I mean so little to you?"

"I don't know," John spoke softly, trying not to look in her eyes, "things got out of hand. I should never have asked you to marry me. I should never have started things up between us again. I was lost and afraid of being alone. But that doesn't mean I had a right to use you like I did. I'm sorry Ashley."

"You keep saying that, but it doesn't make a difference!" Ashley was practically screaming. "You're all so sorry about what happened, but it hasn't stopped you from carrying on has it? The entire time we were together, you were sleeping with Morgan?"

"It wasn't like that. We weren't having an affair Ashley." John tried as best to explain the complicated nature of his relationship to Morgan before everyone had found out.

"But you wanted to, didn't you? You wanted to be with him, more than you did with me." Ashley took a step further into the room.

"Yes." Slowly sitting down onto the bed, John rested his hands on his lap. Turning to face the wall, Ashley pounded her hands against it.

"So that's it then. You and I are finished. All over some stupid kid," Ashley spat, "you're pathetic, you know that?"

Anger flared to life in John's veins. "Don't you dare take the high ground with me Ashley. Don't forget who cheated on who to begin with. If I was in the right state of mind at the time, I would never have taken you back in the first place. If anyone is pathetic, it's you for coming crawling back to me."

Instantly regretting the harshness of his words, John could do nothing as Ashley turned to face him, hatred boiling in her veins. "It's because I love you. Don't you get that? I love you John, and god help me I still to do." Rushing across the room, Ashley sat next to John on the bed. "We can work through this. I still want us to be together. We can still be a couple, if you just -…"

"No Ashley." With his large hands on her shoulders, John slowly pushed her back. "That's not going to happen. I'm in love with Morgan. He's the person I want to be with, and I'm asking you to respect that." Ashley's expression was blank. "He's meeting me at the airport later tonight, and he's coming with me to Carolina. Nothing will change how I feel about him."

Standing up from the bed, Ashley looked as though she were about to collapse into a heap of sobs on the floor. Instead, she reared her hand back, bringing it back to connect a hard slap across John's face. Immediately regretting her actions, Ashley could only look fearfully into the cold expression in Cena's eyes. "I think you need to go."

"John, I'm sorry I-…"

"Ashley, please leave. We're through." Standing up from the bed, Cena turned his back to her, continuing to sort through his case. Taking a few steps back through the room, Ashley's attention was caught by the flashing light of John's phone. Resting on top of a chest of drawers, it continually blinked a blue light. Oblivious to it, John continued to freeze Ashley out. Picking up the phone, Ashley's face snarled with disgust as she saw Morgan's name flashing on the display.

What happened next, Ashley could not explain, even to herself. Holding the phone in her hand, she suddenly dropped it into her purse. Looking back at John, he still hadn't turned around. Walking to the door, she looked back at John one more time. "I'm sorry…"

With no response from John, she stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

* * *

"Come in!"

Jeff Hardy's southern tinted voice sounded muffled. In his hands, he held a collection of clothes - shirts, tops and pants of various materials and designs, a myriad of looks and 'statements'. Precariously balanced across his knee was an open duffle bag, into which he desperately tried to stuff the clothes.

Glancing over his shoulder, he looked surprised as Morgan appeared. He was still dressed as Jeff had seem him earlier, his hair ruffed over the top his head. Hands pushed firmly into the pockets of his jeans, that alone - if not the expression on his handsome features - let Jeff knew he couldn't be coming with good news. Even after the altercation downstairs with Ashley, somehow Jeff had been secretly hoping this moment wasn't going to come. The moment when the love of his life told him he was leaving.

"You're early," Jeff muttered, allowing the duffle bag to drop to the ground, "I thought we were going to meet at nine? Doesn't matter I guess. I have something for you." Jeff's hand reached around to his back pocket. The tips of his fingers brushed against the envelope tucked there. He stopped however, as Morgan spoke again.

"Jeff," Morgan began hesitantly, letting the door to Jeff's hotel room click to a close behind him. "There's something I have to say…so I guess, I'm just going to come out and say it, okay?" Jeff nodded mutely, slowly lowering himself to be perched on the edge of his bed. Both jade green eyes rippled with nerves as Morgan took in a deep breath.

"First of all, I owe you and apology. For everything that has happened over all this time. I know it can't change any of the stuff that I did, or make it any less worse, but I really need you to know that I'm sorry?" Jeff nodded slowly, letting Morgan continue. "Okay…here it comes. I'm not coming to Carolina with you…I'm going with John."

Jeff couldn't hide the wave of emotion that rode over his face, pulling at the curve of his mouth. His hand gripped the envelope even tighter as remained in silence. "After everything that happened between us today, I realise now that John is the guy that I want to be with. I'm in love with him Jeff, and I always have been. I'm lucky that he still wants me, considering what I've put him through. I need to make up for lost time with him now…all I can think about is being with him." Realising perhaps he was 'gushing' to the wrong audience, Morgan rocketed back on topic. "It's my fault things got so far between us and I wish I'd had the guts to stop them earlier, but I didn't. That doesn't excuse any of my behaviour, and I know it makes it all the worse for you, but I've done so much lying I have to be honest, with you if no one else."

Jeff licked his lips slowly, as though trying to take in the words spoken to him. Somehow, knowing this was coming made it even worse. "I have no right to ask this Jeff, and I can't believe that I'm saying it," Morgan approached Jeff, slowly sitting down on the bed along side him. Reaching forward, he took Jeff's hand into his own. "But I really hope one day, we can be friends. If you can find it within yourself to forgive me for what I've done, and move past all the hurt I've caused you…I really want us to be friends."

Jeff looked into Morgan's eyes, the jade pool narrowing in bewildered confusion. "If that's too much for you, I totally understand, and I'll keep my distance from you if that's what you want." Carefully, Morgan slid the ring off his finger. The silver band, given to Morgan by Jeff as a sign of his devotion, rested in the palm of Morgan's hand as he offered it back to Jeff. The wrestler made no attempt to take the ring from Morgan. Understanding this, the singer took Jeff's hand in his own, placing the ring there.

Smiling sadly, Morgan wrapped his arms around Jeff's neck, hugging him close. "I'm sorry." Morgan's voice was a whisper. And yet, it turned to life a cold resilience inside Jeff. It felt as though his heart were turning to stone in his very chest, seeping out into his chest and beyond. Everything that he had ever felt for Morgan was dying inside his heart, turning his very blood to ice. For the very first time since it had all come during John's rant, Jeff understood. _It was over_. As Morgan pulled back from the hug, it took all of Jeff's self-control not to sneer. "I have to go Jeff. Did you say you have something for me?"

Morgan looked innocently at Jeff, hands fidgeting nervously on his lap. Jeff's hand grasped at the envelope in his back pocket. Slowly, Jeff started to pull it out. Somewhere, a soft, sneering voice in the back of his head stopped him. Why should Jeff give Morgan the envelope? After he had just broken his heart in one easy sweep, why should Morgan be happy? He didn't deserve to be loved. He deserved to feel as bad as he was making everyone else feel. Maybe everything Ashley had said was right. Jeff did have a decision. Everything he wanted rested in the palm of his hand. Yes, he had to do something unequivocally wrong to get there, but wouldn't the outcome be worth it?

Jeff licked his dry tongue over his lips. Surely he could make things right. If John was just out of the way for a while, maybe Morgan would see how good he was with Jeff. Maybe he could see things how Jeff saw them, that they were supposed to be together.

Resolve slowly began to build in Jeff's chest. After all, why shouldn't he do something for himself for a change? After everything he had been through, after all the heart ache and betrayal he had felt. After everything Morgan had done, Jeff had still been willing to him back, to let the past go to save the love he thought they shared. Why should Jeff always play the responsible, understanding person? Why couldn't he, just for once, do what he wanted? What was it they said about the nice guy always finishes last? Why couldn't Jeff Hardy be the one who got the love of his life in the end? Even if he had to be the proverbial 'bad guy' to get there, but the ends would justify the means.

Everything in Jeff's head told him he could sacrifice his own happiness for a second time. But Jeff's heart would not hear of it. It truly was hanging on by a thread, and seemed to weight heavier on the judgement. Morgan would probably hate him for doing something wrong to preserve their relationship, but he would come around in time, wouldn't he? Morgan would see that they were meant for each other. And if he didn't? Well, maybe there wasn't a need to tell him at all.

"Jeff?" Morgan's voice sounded uncertain, as he had watched the range of emotions play over Jeff's face. "What is it?"

Shaking his head, Jeff sighed softly. "Nothing."

With a soft nudge, Jeff pushed the envelope back down inside his pocket. His eyes stared expressionlessly at Morgan, his entire face devoid of emotion. Morgan's own face showed a mask of confusion. "Huh? I thought you said -…"

Morgan became cut off as Jeff spoke again. "I mean nothing important, just…" Reaching down to the side of the bed, Jeff pulled a jacket Morgan had left in his room a few months ago. "…just your jacket. I figured you'd want it back."

Morgan smiled as he nodded. Taking the jacket out of Jeff's hands, Morgan stood up from the bed. Walking across the room, Morgan stopped at the door to turn back to look at Jeff. "Goodbye Jeff."

A ghost of a smile crossed Jeff's lips as Morgan slid out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. Jeff sat in what seemed like an eternity of silence. His heart pounded in his chest. His own conscious screamed at him, demanding to know what he had just done. Getting up from the bed, Jeff walked across the room, towards the mirror hanging on the wall. It had been a split second decision. For the first time in his life, Jeff had let his heart over-rule his head. Guilt seethed through his veins, twisting his thoughts. Studying his reflection for a moment, Jeff cried in sheer frustration. _What have I done? _Throwing his fist forward, he punched the mirror with everything he could. The reflective object shattered into a myriad of tiny shards, spilling to the ground.

Morgan was already bouncing down the corridor, heading towards the elevator to hear the noise. Stepping into the carriage, he pushed the button for the lobby. Checking his watch, Morgan saw how short he was running on time. The plane would be leaving in less than thirty minutes. He had to get his behind down to the front desk to collect his ticket and get to the airport. Relaxing back against the hand railing, Morgan smiled softly to himself. For once in his life, things were falling into place. Everything was going his way, and he was truly happy. Picturing John waiting for him when he arrived in Carolina brought a broad smile to Morgan's lips.

Still grinning as the carriage reached the bottom floor, Morgan was close to skipping as he exited. Moving across the lobby floor, he approached the desk with almost nauseating invigorance. Drumming his hands on the surface, the rather bemused Concierge stepped forward. His eyes widened for a split second as he easily recognised the smiling face of Morgan Lee. Swallowing, his eyes darted around the lobby, as though he were expecting John Cena to appear out of nowhere. "Can…can I help you sir?"

"Yes," Morgan smiled brightly. "There should be something left for me under the name of John Cena? My name is Morgan Lee?" Morgan smiled as the Concierge glanced over Morgan's shoulders. Coming down the steps was a rather ashen faced Jeff Hardy. Keeping his back pressed against the banister, he watched the interaction from afar.

"I don't think so sir." The man behind the desk made a show of searching beneath the counter for an item, knowing full well he had been paid to hand it over earlier. "No sir. Nothing at all."

Morgan face creased into a mask of confusion. "I don't understand…" Scratching his head, Morgan ran over the last conversation he had with John. He was sure he had said it would be left under his name. "Nothing at all?" The concierge shook his head, guilty straightening his tie. "Is there anything under my name? Morgan Lee?"

Sighing, the blonde haired man looked behind the desk again, even looking at the shelves attached to walls behind him. "I'm sorry sir. Nothing for either name. Perhaps you were mistaken?"

A slow burn of panic took hold in Morgan's chest. "I don't understand…no he said it would be here. Would you please check again?" The man did as he was asked, coming back with the same result. "Could you ask someone else? Maybe he left it with some other person and they've put it somewhere?"

"No sir. I've been at the desk all day. No-one else would have taken anything. Only me." The concierge did his best to sound as relaxed as possible. Inside, he felt as though every eye in the building was on in.

"You're sure…there's nothing at all?" Morgan's voice sounded desperate, a million and one horrible thoughts rushing through his mind. _What if he changed his mind? What if John decided Morgan had waited too long, or this wasn't what he wanted after all? Had he been lying to Morgan the entire time?_

The slow shake of the man's head seemed to confirm Morgan's nightmare. Mumbling 'thank you' Morgan stepped away from the desk, eyes downcast as he tried to understand what was going on. Behind him, the concierge breathed a sigh of relief, busying himself with another customer. Before he knew it, Morgan was stood in the centre of the lobby. Forcing himself not to panic, Morgan dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans. Retrieving his cell phone, he flipped it open, dialling John's number. Silently, Morgan begged Cena to pick up.

"_I'm sorry. The cell phone you have tried to reach is switched off. Please try again later."_

Exhaling rapidly, Morgan snapped his phone shut, squeezing it tight in the palm of his hand. Rubbing his fingers furiously against his temples, he didn't know what to make of the situation.

"Morgan!"

Glancing up across the lobby, Morgan smiled as best he could as he saw Candice Michelle approaching. "Candice, hi"

Embracing the singer, Candice smiled back at him. "It's great to see you. How have you been? How are you after that whole…thing at your party?"

"I'll be alright…" Morgan swallowed slowly, as though he were trying to force down gravel, "listen, I hate to be rude…but have you heard from John at all? I kinda really need to talk to him…?"

As Morgan looked hopefully into her eyes, Candice seemed to consider it for a moment. "He checked out two hours ago."

"Two hours ago?" That didn't make sense to Morgan. As far as he was aware, John should have already flown to Carolina. _Had John lied about that too?_

"Yeah," Candice confirmed with a nod, "it was really strange actually. He was supposed to be on the same flight as Randy and Dave, but he changed it at the last minute. Vince was so pissed. But John said he had to catch the later flight. Didn't really say why."

Morgan's mind worked quickly. "So he's still at the airport?" He couldn't keep down the tone of hope in his voice.

"For now yes. But the flight leaves in about thirty minutes…why?" For the first time in their conversation, Candice seemed to pick up on the sense of desperation in Morgan's voice.

"I need to get to the airport." Mentally chastising himself for not booking a taxi in advance, Morgan headed for the exit.

"You'll never get a cab now Morgan," Candice called after him, making the singer stop dead in his tracks, "it's crazy out there."

"I'll drive you." Jeff didn't realise he had spoken until he saw the look Morgan gave him. Honestly, he didn't know where the words came from. Well, that was a lie. Jeff knew damn well where it came from. He was consumed with guilt for lying to Morgan. Hopefully he would be able to work up the courage to tell the truth on the way to the airport.

"Are you sure?" Morgan sounded sceptical. And with good reason. Jeff wasn't exactly his first thought when it came to people to reunite him with John. For him to be offering now, seemed almost too good to be true.

"Sure. It's not a problem." Jeff took a step closer to Morgan. "Friends, right?"

Morgan nodded rapidly, waving briskly at Candice before turning to jog towards the exit. Candice looked quizzically at Jeff. Feeling himself blush, he turned and ran after Morgan.

* * *

Drumming his hands against the surface of the counter, John looked back down through the departure lounge. It was getting close to boarding time, and there was still no sign of Morgan. Checking his watch again, John could feel the sweat breaking out on his brow.

_Where was he?_

John never considered himself to be a paranoid person, but this was really starting to get to him. _I knew I should have waited to meet him after the show! _John's last minute change of plans was starting to worry him. He hadn't heard from Morgan since their last moment in the club. He had done everything he said he would. He had bought the ticket and left it at the main desk in the hotel for Morgan to collect. So why wasn't he here yet? Had he changed his mind? Had he decided that he would rather be with Jeff after all? Clenching his fists at his side, John felt an icy wave of fear scratch at his heart.

_No. That's not possible. Morgan loves me…doesn't he?_

Lost in his own thoughts, the sound of approaching footsteps brought a smile to John's face. Looking up, he felt his heart falter slightly as the downcast face of Ashley drew nearer.

"John," she began, taking a hesitant step closer. In each hand, she held her bags. "I can't leave things the way they were."

"Ashley, there's nothing more to say now. I've apologised for everything that went down. But torturing yourself over it is just stupid. You need to accept the fact that I'm in love with Morgan. I want to be with Morgan."

"And I do. I understand that John. I may not like it, but I at I'll do my best to be okay with it. I'm just hoping you and I can be friends through all this." Ashley looked hopefully up into John's eyes. Hesitating a moment, John slowly took the petit blonde into his arms, hugging her tightly against his chest.

"I'd love for us to be friends Ash," he whispered softly, "when we get to Carolina, we can sit down and just talk, if you want?" Ashley nodded softly, stepping out of John's embrace.

"Okay. That would be nice." Overhead, a voice chimed out over the departure lounge. They were calling for the last passengers flying to Carolina. From behind the desk, a woman eyed John, as it to ask him if he was getting on the flight. "That's you, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but Morgan isn't here. He's supposed to be flying with me." Taking a step past Ashley, John peered down into the airport, looking for any signs of Morgan. Narrowing his eyes slightly, there was none to be found.

Shifting her feet nervously, Ashley looked back down the airport, then towards the John. "I didn't want to say this John. Coming from me it sounds awful…" John turned back to face Ashley, a bemused expression on his face. Not knowing where the words were coming from, Ashley couldn't stop them. And part of her didn't want to. "But I don't think Morgan is coming. I saw him at the hotel…I saw him with Jeff. He went to Jeff's hotel room earlier…" The lie tumbled over Ashley's lips with far too much ease.

Ashley's voice trailed off as a startled expression crossed John's face. "What? What do you mean, went into Jeff's hotel room?"

Ashley softly bit down on her bottom lip, as if keeping back her own stream of lies. "They sort of looked like…like they were making up?"

John shook his head furiously. "I don't believe you. Morgan wouldn't do that. He loves me. We're supposed to be flying together…we were supposed to…" John's head twisted from side to side, silently begging to see Morgan come running down the corridor towards him. He could already picture the smiling face, the apologies for the show running on causing him to be late.

"I'm sorry John. He's not coming." Ashley shook her head softly, softly trying to guide John towards the desk.

John's breath came in rapid gasps. This was all wrong. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. "Excuse me sir," the woman from behind the desk had approached John, nervously checking her watch, "but we really do need to get moving. If you're coming with us to Carolina, please could you follow me? We really can't delay the plane anymore."

With a pained expression on his face, John looked at the woman. His steely blue eyes conveyed a heart full of fear and disappointment. It was crunch time. And Morgan wasn't here. Pulling the baseball cap off his head, John ran his hands over the short length of hair on his head. _What was he supposed to do? _Get on the plane, and leave without Morgan? What if what Ashley said was true? If Morgan really wanted to be with him, then he would have been here. What if Morgan had gone back to Jeff? If he waited to find out, John knew he would look the fool. And he was tired of looking foolish.

Not to mention he would probably lose his job. Word had gotten back to Vince of John's outburst during Jeff's engagement party. He had received notification that he was expected in Vince's office at nine am tomorrow morning. Showing up late to your own firing for no good reason wouldn't exactly help your case, would it?

Sighing sadly, John could only predict the worst. Morgan wasn't here. John had done everything asked of him. He had bought the ticket, left it at the desk. All Morgan had to do was pick it up and meet him. And he had failed to do even that. If there was anyway to tell someone it was over, this had to be the simplest way. Not to mention the cruellest. It was Morgan and Jeff now.

Grabbing his backpack, John shrugged it onto his shoulder. Slowly, he began walking towards the terminal desk, as if giving in to his fate. The woman attending the desk looked relieved, ushering John towards the door. Stopping, John cast one final look down into the empty airport. Tears glistened in his eyes, unexpectedly tugging at Ashley's heart strings. Her mouth slid open, as though she were about to tell John what she had done. Everything inside her screamed for her to say _something._

"If Morgan comes…give him this. Tell him I'll be at the hotel like I said. Tell him…" John's voice trailed off. Taking his hand out of his pocket, John through a small black box towards Ashley. Catching it in her hands, her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

But words didn't come. As John brushed away a single tear from his cheek, he pulled his hat down low over his eyes. Turning, he headed down the corridor, never looking back.

Ashley's heart pounded in her chest as the attendant closed the door behind John, locking it into position. Smiling at Ashley, she went about her business. Looking down at the box in her hands, Ashley snapped it open. Resting on a pale purple cushion was a silver ring. A plain band, Ashley gently lifted it out of the box. On the inside, she could make out an engraving. The single word _'forever' _was etched into the silver band.

Placing her hand on her chest to steady her breath, Ashley couldn't believe what she had just done. Placing the ring carefully back in its box, she slid it into her purse. Knowing she had done some awful things in her life, Ashley counted cheating on John being one of the worst. But lying to John? Letting him get on the plane thinking the love of his life wasn't interested, when she knew full well he was? Deliberately keeping him apart from the person he loved? That was a new kind of low, one which she had never thought herself capable of.

_It's not like he's some kind of saint, _Ashley reminded herself. John was perfectly happy to have an affair behind her back, lying day by day to her face. That was something Ashley had never done. Besides which, it was not as though John had showed any kind of remorse for his actions. Maybe it was his turn to feel heartbroken. Maybe it was his turn to feel regret for things he should have done and said.

_And it's not as though they would have lasted together anyway. _Ashley took in a deep breath. Of course that was right. John and Morgan weren't right for each other. He would see that. He just needed time. Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved John's cell phone. It was still switched off. Wondering if Morgan had indeed tried to get in contact, Ashley half-thought about switching it on to check.

The clattering footsteps coming down the hallway caused Ashley to look up. Sliding the phone back into her pocket, Ashley could already make out Morgan's face. And he wasn't alone. Running behind him, looking like a deer in the headlights, was Jeff Hardy.

Recognising Ashley from afar, Morgan's pace slowed as he saw her. Feeling uncomfortable, Morgan didn't see any point in beating around the bush. "Ashley, where is John?"

Swallowing softly, Ashley looked from Morgan to Jeff. The latter avoided eye contact at all costs. "He's gone Morgan. Gone to Carolina."

As if his heart stopped in his chest, Morgan felt light headed. "But…I don't understand. He was supposed to leave me a plane ticket…we were supposed to meet up," Morgan's voice became distorted by emotion as tears bubbled in his eyes. "Candice said he changed his flight…that he was waiting…"

Ashley softly shook her head, clutching her hands together as if to hide their shaking. "I'm sorry Morgan. But he changed his mind." Guilt stabbed at Ashley's chest as tears pooled into Morgan's eyes. "He told me tell you…he said…" Morgan's eyes looked desperately into Ashley's for some glimmer hope. And she knew it wasn't too late. It wasn't too late to make this right. "…he said he was sorry, but he made a mistake."

"I don't believe you…" Morgan didn't bother trying to hide the tears running down his cheeks, "I don't believe you! Why didn't he tell me himself?"

"John thought it would be easier for a clean break Morgan," Ashley felt as though her tongue were turning black in her own mouth. And she still didn't stop lying. "He hopes you can respect that."

Staggering backwards, Morgan collapsed into one of the seats. Dropping his head into his hands, he sobbed softly. Everything had fallen into place, making a horrible nightmare picture. John had changed his mind. He didn't want to be together after all. He had flow without Morgan after all. There was no ticket left at the Concierge's desk. There was no future. It was over. Crying softly, Morgan's hands ran back through his hair. The little voice of self doubt in the back of his head practically chuckled with glee. _I told you so. You took a chance on someone you loved, and looked what happens Morgan. They abandon you. _

As if coming to life, Jeff slowly lowered himself into the seat next to Morgan. Gently putting his arm around the singers' shoulders, his eyes burned into Ashley. Shrugging off Jeff's arm, Morgan got up from the seat. Wiping away the tears from his eyes, he took several steps back. "I'm sorry Jeff. This…this doesn't change anything between us…I think I need to be by myself…thanks for the ride."

Looking at both Ashley and Jeff, Morgan slowly turned on his heel. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he began walking back down the way he came. Glancing out of the large window to his left, Morgan saw a plane taking off from the runaway. Lowering his head sadly, Morgan continued to walk, never turning back.

Standing in silence, Ashley watched Morgan leave, as Jeff held his own head in his hands. "It'll be okay Jeff. Everything will be okay."

Jeff shook his head. He was a terrible person, and he knew it. He'd had so many changes to tell Morgan the truth, and he didn't. Out of some misguided bid for revenge, or was it really desperation to keep Morgan? It didn't matter now. He had done this. He had deliberately made sure he kept Morgan and John apart. There was a special kind of hell reserved for people like him. And Jeff felt like he was there right now. His actions were the lowest of the low, and were ones he could never take back.

"It'll be okay Jeff," Ashley assured him, "he'll come around. And we can go back to the way we were. He just needs time…you'll see…" Ashley's voice slowly faded to nothingness.

Glancing up at Ashley, Jeff laughed bitterly. "The lies we tell ourselves…" Not able to keep eye contact with Jeff, Ashley looked down guilty. Silence fell between the pair, leaving them very much alone, even to each other. John and Morgan were gone. And they still remained by themselves. John and Morgan had no future now, thanks to their combined actions. They had collectively and separately made sure of that.

_What have I done?_

"It'll all be okay…" Ashley repeated, to no-one in particular. Jeff shook his head, gripping his purple hair between his fingers. Silence polluted the space between them once more. Icy cold tears spilled out over Jeff's cheeks, making tiny splatters against the floor below.

Ashley slowly wrapped both arms around herself, in a futile bid to keep the chill she felt from her soul. "It will be okay." Somehow they both knew, it never would.

* * *

**_A/N_ First, please don't throw anything. Secondly, in answer to popular demand, I am considering the idea of a sequel. As much as I stand by my end, I'm a hopeless romantic. More will be revealed in the Epilogue. As ever, I disclaim. Please, as it is the last chapter, leave me a review!**


	26. Epilogue: Who Am I?

**A/N**** A little later than I had originally intended, but here it is. The 'Epilogue' and final addition to my story of 'Confide In Me'.**

**I know I said it in the last chapter, but I really cannot thank you all enough for everything everyone has done for me. The response I have had to this story has just been amazing and truly humbling. From just reading, to reviews, to PMs and e-mails. This story has been an amazing journey for me, and I genuinely thank you all for taking it with me.**

**The sequel. After much deliberation, I have decided that there will be a sequel to this story. I've given it a working title of 'Absolution'. I've got a few ideas that I've been working over in my head. I was against the idea to begin with, but I honestly feel like there is more story to tell. Although my ending did everything I want it to, I know this isn't the end of Morgan/John.**

**So for the final time for this story, please everyone accept my heartfelt thanks. I hope you enjoy this last chapter. I disclaim! Lyrics are from one of my favourite songs. It's called Who Am I, and is sung by Will Young. And just for me, please, if you read this chapter? Leave me a review. Love and Light!**

* * *

Staring at the at the computer monitor before him, John's shoulders' sagged. Stretched across his e-mail inbox were the words: - _'Unable to deliver this message to recipients' inbox'._ John's large hands rubbed his chin with interest. It was the third he had received after trying to e-mail Morgan. Every single e-mail he had sent had been returned to him, giving the same reason for its return. That message could only mean one thing. Morgan had blocked John's e-mail address. He could send a thousand e-mails to Morgan, and none would be delivered.

John's hands moved from his chin to his face. His fingers carefully massaged his eyes, trying to hold back the burning tears.

_I will not cry anymore._

Closing the laptop computer, John got up from his seat. Pacing across the room, he suddenly found himself full of nervous energy. Somehow reaching the mirror attached to the opposite wall, John found it a chore to even meet his own reflection.

Looking at his misty blue eyes, and the dark circles beneath them, John Cena sighed. It had been four days. Four whole days. Ninety-six hours even, since John had seen Morgan. Never being one for patience, despite his easy going demeanour, John wished these feelings burning inside would just go away. Wasn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Didn't it make life easier? The only silver lining through this entire experience, was John's hope that in time the hurt would go away.

And yet the emotions seemed to bury themselves deeper with every passing day. Incapable of getting Morgan out of his head, John had resorted to e-mails. Truthfully, he doubted that he had the guts for a telephone conversation. A part of John's mind, plagued with self-doubt, really believed Morgan would refuse to speak to him. How things have gotten this bad? Had Morgan's feelings changed? John's certainly hadn't. He was as in love with Morgan has he had been for the past twelve months.

And yet, the love for Morgan that at first kept him alive, now rotted away inside his chest. As much as he truly loved the guy, John knew this love was slowly killing him.

John had had his heart broken before. But never like this. All his hopes and dreams seemed to cruelly torn away from him at the very last second. Morgan couldn't possibly have left it any later than he had. Maybe that was his point, to cause John as much hurt as possible. If John knew Morgan at all, he was sure that was Morgan's way of making sure he got the message. John watched his reflection, as its lips curved into a sad smile.

That was Morgan Lee all over. In his sweet little head, he would try and make John hate him. That way, their parting would be easier. If anything, it made it a hundred times worse. John just wished he knew what he had done. Where had their relationship gone wrong? Had he said or done something to chase Morgan away? Maybe it was the complete opposite. Perhaps there was something John _hadn't_ done that pushed Morgan away. Sighing softly, his breath clouded up the mirror in front. John realised he would probably never know.

Turning his back to the mirror, he became aware of the other presence in the hotel room. Raising his eyes, John was confronted with the melancholy expression of Randy Orton. Stood in the open doorway, his large frame rested against the door, arms folded neatly across his chest. The expression on his handsome features was enough to make Cena snort incredulously.

"You realise," Randy began, "that the kid ain't on the other side of the mirror. If he's being a little bitch and blocking your e-mails, pick up the fuckin' phone and call him. You might be lucky, could end up as a booty call."

Rolling his eyes, John dropped himself onto the sofa in the centre of the room as Randy chuckled at his own particular brand of humour. Kicking up his legs, John rested his head on the arm of the chair. Randy simply shook his head. "I'm going to head downstairs and get some ice. The boys will be here in a minute, so try and be hospitable you miserable fucker." Randy shook his head. "Oh and John..?"

Cena answered wearily, without looking up at Randy. "Yeah man?"

"I invited Jeff. Hope that's cool." Not giving John any time to reply, Randy stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Resting one hand inside the pocket of his jeans, Randy headed down the hall. Things were so tense at the moment; he was beginning to feel asphyxiated by it all. All this emotional bullshit between John, Morgan and Jeff was really starting to get out of hand.

Randy Orton was not a deep thinker. He was not in touch with his emotions. He was a purely gut driven person, who didn't analyse things the way everyone else did. It was because of this, that he secretly felt like he was failing John as a friend. Sure, he could inject humour into any given situation. But that wasn't enough. Randy knew, when it came down to it, what John needed the most was to talk. He needed someone that he could his feelings and frustrations to. Randy Orton was not that guy.

The best Randy could do was just make sure John knew he was there. Whether that was enough or not, was out of Orton's hand. Turning the corner, Randy continued trudging along the corridor. Approaching a door to the left, he stopped. Taking in a brief burst of oxygen, he squared his shoulders.

If anyone was suffering more than John in all this, it was Jeff Hardy. Since the day that Morgan had left for good, no-one had seen much of Jeff. Rumour had it that Hardy had even refused to see his brother Matt. Finding solace in no-one, he had asked to be left alone. Wondering just how hard Jeff was taking the break up, Randy gently rapped his knuckles against the pale blue door. His lips less than inch away from the door, Randy's voice was a soft inquiry. "Jeff?"

For a second, Randy thought that he wasn't inside. About to turn to leave, he stopped as he the sound of shuffling. A set of feet padded across the floor. Hearing something fall to the ground, Randy heard Jeff's southern voice curse lazily. Sounding like he had collapsed against the other side of the door, Randy listened intently as the sound of the door unlocking came.

The door slowly peered open, flooding the pitch black room with the light from the hallway. Slowly, Jeff's head rolled into view. To say Randy was shocked would be an understatement.

Jeff's usually multi-coloured hair was a simple jet black, hanging in greasy streaks around his head. His skin was pale, betrayed by deep black circles etched beneath of his eyes. Randy looked at Jeff's eyes in more depth. After a few seconds, Orton could see just how unfocused Jeff's pupils were. More than that, he seemed to be having a difficult time focusing on Randy. Sniffing softly, Randy was instantly aware of the tell-tale aroma of marijuana.

Placing his hand on Jeff's shoulder, Randy peered intently into the unfocused jade green pools in front of him. "Jeff…man. Are you alright?"

"Sure." Jeff drawled, slowly wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. "What's up?"

His face showing real concern, Randy tried to looks past Jeff into his hotel room. "We're all heading to John's room, remember? For beer, pizza and poker? You said you'd think about coming?"

By the confused look on Jeff's features, Randy knew he had forgotten. "I did…? Don't remember that." Standing up to a straight, Jeff regarded Randy coolly.

"Well, the invitation is open if you want to come?" Randy's voice hinted at his hope that the Carolina native would still come. If anything, Randy wanted to get him out of this hotel room, and back to his friends. At a time like this, shutting yourself away was the worst thing you could possibly do, Randy decided.

Jeff shook his head lazily. "Nah, man. I'm good." Tilting his head slightly, Jeff moved to close the door to his hotel room. He was stopped as Randy planted the flat of his hand against it, baring its close.

"Jeff…whatever you're doing man…nobody is worth losing yourself for." Randy was more than a little startled at the withering look Jeff gave him. Face remained stony; Jeff pushed the door closed in Randy's face. Fumbling clumsily with the lock, Jeff pulled the chain back into place. Turning back to the face the room, he trudged back across the floor.

Sitting back down on the seat where he had been before, Jeff sighed. With a trembling hand, he slowly started to role the sleeve of his shirt back up his arm. Pulling it up onto his shoulder, his exposed bicep revealed what his shirt had been hiding. Stretched around his arm was a thin length of material. It had been pulled so tight, the blood supply into Jeff's arm pumped furiously. The large vein running beneath the flesh looked angry and bloated. Running his forefinger over it, Jeff chewed down onto his bottom lip.

He honestly couldn't take anymore of feeling like he did. Everything he had done in his life was a lie. Every time he had ever been the _'nice guy' _was a lie. Everything he had done to show Morgan how much he cared about him was a lie. Jeff Hardy was a liar. In one moment of pure selfishness, he had done something he could never take back. In a fit of selfish revenge, he had deliberately kept Morgan and John apart. Maybe Ashley had started it, but Jeff had been the one to ensure the success of her idea.

Glancing across the room, Jeff's eyes fell over the envelope resting on the pillow of his bed. It was still there. The letter from John, the plane ticket to Carolina. A symbol of his guilt and self-loathing. Nothing Jeff had ever done, nor anything he would ever do, could possibly make up for his deceit. He was a terrible person, and for the first time understood why Morgan didn't want him. He didn't deserve the love of someone like Morgan.

Dipping his head, Jeff choked back the tears threatening to spill. Grabbing the length of material, he pulled it even tighter. Unable to stop the trembling in his hand, he reached for the syringe lying on the table in front of him.

Bringing it closer, he softly pressed the tip of the needle against the bulging vein. Sobbing softly, Jeff knew he was a failure. For all the hardwork and success he had staying clean, everything had toppled down around him, as though it were some kind of macabre house of card. But he didn't care anymore. _I just can't stand feeling this way anymore._ With one final sob, Jeff pushed the needle into the vein.

* * *

Back in his hotel room, John slowly sucked a line of liquorice in and out of his mouth. Having some kind of tongue contest with himself, he realised he was doing anything he could. Just so he wouldn't have to think about anything Morgan related. Realising that was exactly what he was doing, John immediately sat up on the seat. The silence of the room, which at first had been peaceful, was suddenly deafening. The entire lack of noise weighed heavily down on John. It was as if it were taunting him, shedding harsh light on all the things he wouldn't think - let alone say.

Standing up from the seat, he padded across the room towards the television. Hitting the on-switch, the flat screen crackled to life. Settling back down onto his seat, John's hands rubbed nervous circles over his knees. Snatching up the remote from the table in front, he switched the channel from the current 30s movie it was on. Having no desire to watch two people in love torn apart, his thumb jutted spasmodically against the button. Channels passed in a blaze of white light. Not lasting long enough to get a full picture of each, John Cena pushed the button one more time.

Deciding to settle for the channel he was on, he relaxed back into the seat. Pouring all his energies into focusing on the television and _not_ Morgan, John's mouth fell open at the cosmic irony of the image before him. Shocked into a state of near catatonia, John could only watch helplessly as the images of the arena, and concert taking place, unfolded before his eyes.

* * *

The crowd roared to life in an explosion of sound. The indoor arena was positively shaking with the sheer force of the sounds coming from the fan's mouths. Everyone stood up from their seat, arms waving desperately in the air. Screams and chants of _'Morgan' _echoed wildly through the space, all directed at the currently empty stage.

As if to but the baying crowd out its misery, a direct spotlight sliced through the darkened arena, focused on the staging. The cameras zoomed in to get a clearer view of what was taking place. Dressed in a pair of low rising jeans and a black 'Chain-Gang' tee-shirt, Morgan smiled broadly at the audience. The cheers reaching a fever pitch, he paced the stage for a few moments, waving at the crowd, reaching forward to tag the hands of fans that he could reach.

The sustained wall of sounds lasted for a few more moments. Taking his place behind the microphone, Morgan raised his hands in an effort to quieten his fans. Resting one hand on the microphone, his voice rang out through the entire arena. "Good evening New York! How are you enjoying the show so far? Are you guys having a good time?" The ecstatic response told Morgan that the sold out crowd were thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Grinning, he removed the microphone from the stand, and took a few steps towards the front of the stage. "Me too." The crowd cheered wildly as Morgan chuckled, reaching the front of the stage. "So, as this is my first ever concert right here in New York, I figured I'd give you guys a one-time special performance." Fighting to be heard over the screams of adulation, Morgan walked down the few steps leading onto the runway which jutted out from the main stage. "I'd like to sing a song for you guys, one which is very personal to me. I wrote it this weekend on my way here. See, I was originally supposed to be heading to Carolina…but that didn't work out…" Morgan licked his lips, eyes creasing slightly as the heartache took hold for a moment. Ever the professional, he forced himself to carry on.

"…as with most music, this is a song about love. It's about a powerful love, one which until recently least, had pretty much consumed me. I'm still trying to figure out where things went wrong…but talking about it helps I guess. And we all know I don't do talking very well, I do singing. So I'd like to sing this song for you guys. This is called, _Who Am I_."

Lowering himself to take a seat on the few steps, Morgan waved at a group of screaming tweenage girls nearby who were stretching to touch him. The houselights dimmed slightly, as the image of a bright daisy flickered to life on the screen behind. As the music began to play, Morgan could already feel his eyes misting over, tears desperate to be released from their prison of ocean blue eyes.

"_Sometimes you know you push me so hard I don't know how I feel. You almost make me doubt I feel at all. It's not as though I always listen, but there's just so much I don't hear. Maybe I'll never be what you want." _The crowds collective voice softly died down as Morgan's voice sang out into the darkness before him.

Feeling all the eyes of the audience, not to mention of the thousands watching at home, it was all too easy to let nerves get the better of him. But somewhere deep inside, Morgan knew. If he didn't get these feelings out of him now, they would consume him utterly. "_I know that all you're asking for is a little place in my heart. But I don't find it easy to give. Maybe I get a little selfish sometimes, why shouldn't I? I used to say I love you, but would it make a difference this time?"_

Using the momentary pause of the music to take a breath, Morgan's eyes closed for a moment. A world of fears and heartaches and disappointments bubbled furiously inside the pit of his stomach. For everything he had ever gone through in his life, it seemed finally his broken heart was finally finding its voice._ "And who am I to tell you, that I would never let you down? That no-one else could love you half as much as I do now. And who am I to tell you, I'll always catch you when you fall? Well I, I wouldn't be myself at all…I wouldn't be myself at all." _

Through the vast distance between them, Morgan secretly hoped that somewhere, John Cena was listening, that every word he was singing was reaching his ears. After all, this entire song was for John Cena. If ever Morgan was ever going to bare his soul to the person he had fallen so deeply in love, it seemed it was this very moment.

"_I always find a reason why I didn't put you first. It's not that complicated I know. I really hate it when you shake your head like this ain't gonna work. Maybe you'll never reap what you sow…" _As the chorus approached, Morgan was struck by a paralysing thought. Everything inside himself was finally breaking free. If that was the case, and he was riding himself of all negative emotions…what would be left of himself?

Wondering if pain had defined his life for so long that there would be nothing left if it went, Morgan's eyes looked hazily out into the crowd_. "And who am I to tell you, that I would never let you down? That no-one else could love you half as much as I do now. And who am I to tell you, I'll always catch you when you fall? Well I, I wouldn't be myself at all…I wouldn't be myself at all." _

Morgan's eyes fell to the camera on his left for some reason; it became the focus of his song, as though by looking into the camera lens, he was really singing to John Cena and him alone. _"I didn't want to do what everybody does, and hide the truth to find we never knew a thing about love, cos this is real life, real love. And knowing what it comes down too It just might be enough…" _

Morgan found himself rising back to his feet, looking out into the darkened audience. In some ways, he was grateful he couldn't make out individual people. He was petrified that if he looked into another pair of human eyes, the last strands of sanity holding his emotions in check would flee. Morgan thought he could never let that happen.

That was untilhe felt the tears rolling down over his cheeks. _"And who am I to tell you, that I would never let you down? That no-one else could love you half as much as I do now. And who am I to tell you, I'll always catch you when you fall? Well I, I wouldn't be myself at all…I wouldn't be myself at all._

"_And who am I to tell you, that I would never let you down? That no-one else could love you half as much as I do now. And who am I to tell you, I'll always catch you when you fall? Well I, I wouldn't be myself at all…I wouldn't be myself at all." _

Perhaps out of nerves more than respect for Morgan, the lightning technician of his tour began to dim the lights as Morgan's head fell into his knees. Slowing cradling himself in his own arms, Morgan spoke without realising it. _"I'm sorry." _Not entirely sure of who he was apologising too, Morgan could care less. He didn't think anyone had heard him anyway. It was over, Morgan finalle realised. There was no going back now.

* * *

A lifetime away in Carolina, John Cena was perched on the edge of his chair. His heart pounded inside his chest as tears stung at his steel blue eyes. For John, it had bee as though Morgan had been in the room with him, singing directly to him and him only. Without realising what he was doing, John watched as his hand reached forward. His thick fingers were outstretched, as though he was trying to reach for Morgan's fading form through the television itself. But for what? To hold him, to comfort the crying love of his life?

For the second time today however, John was unaware of the company he had in the room. Lost in his own agonised heart, John _heard _Randy Orton before he even knew his friend was there in the room with him. "Anything good on television Cena?" Randy tried to keep his tone as light as possible. In reality, the young 'Legend Killer' had seen enough of Morgan's performance and John's reaction to know how much his friend was affected. Crystal blue eyes focused on John, Randy wondered how his friend would finally react.

Randy was rapidly given his answer. John's hand which had been reaching for the screen suddenly shifted to the left. In one swift movement, he hit the off switch to the television. The darkened image of Morgan falling apart on stage melted away into a blank television screen.

"No man." John replied, turning over his shoulder to smile up at Randy, despite the tears glistening in his eyes. "Nothing at all."

* * *

**_A/N_ FF isn't sending me alerts/Pms again! If you have sent me a PM, I apologise for not replying, but I haven't had it.**


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